


The Travels of the (Not a) Martian and the (Best) Temp (in Chiswick)

by DinoDina



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 88
Words: 28,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoDina/pseuds/DinoDina
Summary: Small, fluffy, and sometimes sad adventures of the Doctor and Donna that we didn't get to see.





	1. Applauding Aristotle

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written/posted (on ffn) from 10-02-14 to 07-30-16.

"Aristotle!" Donna cried in surprise. " _The_ Aristotle!"

"It's the only one I know," the Doctor cried, running around the Console. "And I know a lot of people!"

Donna felt the TARDIS thump to a stop. By now, she could tell the ship's moods from the way she hummed and moved, and, as far as Donna knew, the TARDIS was in a good mood.

"Where are you going?" the Doctor's eyes widened comically as Donna, instead of running for the doors, moved deeper into the TARDIS.

"I'm going you change," she explained. "Can't walk around Ancient Athens in jeans and a Sherlock T-shirt!"

"Donna. . ." the Doctor trailed off, knowing that he was going to be ignored.

The TARDIS hummed as Donna's hurried steps faded away.

"It's nice, though," he commented to the ship. "Having a companion so enthusiastic about dressing up."

She made another noise.

"Stop it!" the Doctor admonished.

The Doctor stood near the doors, waiting for Donna, tapping his foot impatiently. _Boy, that woman can take her time! I want to meet Aristotle. . . now!_ the Doctor stopped jumping in place as Donna came into view.

"There you are!" he greeted. "And just so you know, we're not in Athens!"

He opened the doors of the TARDIS with a flourish. In his enthusiasm, the Doctor could almost hear a fanfare as daily life in Macedonia almost literally popped up in front of their eyes.

Donna elbowed him, "Too much."

"It was, a bit, wasn't it?" the Doctor frowned.

"Let's go!" Donna cried.

The Doctor allowed Donna drag him across Macedonia, asking him question about objects and people.

"340 BCE," the Doctor said as they walked through the city. "Three years after Aristotle was appointed the head of the Royal Academy of Macedon by Alexander the Great's father, Phillip II of Macedon. He'll leave for Athens in 335 BCE. . ."

Donna stared at her escort, at the faraway look in his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked. "Doctor, you alright?"

"Of course I am!" he cried, too quickly in Donna's opinion. "Now. . . where were we?"

"Aristotle?" offered Donna.

"Right, yes!" he breathed. "Come on, Donna!"

As the Doctor's hand closed around hers, the question Donna wanted to ask him was gone, replaced by a single thought: _Run._


	2. Beyond Babylon

"Where are we going now, Spaceman?" Donna asked.

"I don't now!" replied the Doctor with a wide grin.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Donna's grin faded, but the excitement in her eyes remained.

"I don't know!" the Doctor cried cheerfully. "The TARDIS is taking us wherever she wants us to go!"

"But you said you'd take me to the Bahamas," Donna pouted—a trick she picked up from the Doctor.

The Doctor, knowing that Donna's pout had surpassed his own, turned away.

"Doctor," Donna said sternly. "Why aren't you taking me for my holiday?"

"The Bahamas will still be there!" the Doctor said. "But right now. . . right now. . ."

Donna stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but the Doctor said nothing. The TARDIS continued humming along, as Donna stood, her arms across her chest.

"Well?" she asked. "What is so important that I can't have my sunny holiday?"

"The time vortex is. . ." the Doctor looked puzzled for a second, but quickly lit up again. "It's unstable right now, so the TARDIS can take us anywhere, and have it be a complete surprise!"

"And?" Donna was not impressed.

"This is so rare, so. . . beautiful," the Doctor moved to stand next to Donna. "It happens once every couple hundred years."

"Oh," Donna said.

She didn't get why it was so amazing to the Doctor, why it made him act even more like a squirrel on crack than he usually did, but she didn't argue. Contrary to the belief of most who know her, Donna _could_ be quiet and considerate. Besides, like the Doctor said, the Bahamas would still be there.

". . . and even the Boeshane Peninsula!" she heard.

"What was that?" asked Donna.

"I said," the Doctor repeated. "We could end up anywhere—the creation of the universe, Babylon, New New York, and even the Boeshane Peninsula!"

"Can't we do that already?" Donna asked.

"But this—this is completely random!" he said.

Donna felt the TARDIS stop.

"Allons-y!"

_Daft Martian_ , she thought.

The Doctor ran out of the TARDIS, followed by (read: dragging) Donna.

She looked around. The sky was blue. But it wasn't Earth blue. It was a bright, almost electric color, seemingly shimmering. Like on Earth, there was a sun in the sky. But the sun was green. The sort of green that crayons like to advertise before not working. The ground was soft and mushy, as if she was standing on undercooked brownies. It was also purple.

"Well," she said cheerfully. "Definitely not Babylon!"


	3. Curious Cat

When Donna woke up, it was a normal day. At least, as normal as it could be on the TARDIS. She had missed her alarm, taken a too-long shower, and gotten dressed in a mix of her own clothes and TARDIS-provided ones. Although she was on a spaceship that could travel in time, therefore, one was never sure how much time had passed, by Donna's internal and physical clocks, it was noon.

Donna made her way to the kitchen, where, thanks to her constant nagging, there was always at least some human, non-exotic food. She was looking forward to a nice, normal breakfast. Looking back, Donna didn't know what she was thinking—she was with the Doctor for someone's sake! _Nothing_ was normal.

She was still half asleep, as she, like most human beings, woke up only after a cup of coffee. Blearily, Donna came up to the coffeemaker and was about to make the first cup when she heard a yell.

"Finn, no!" it was undoubtedly the Doctor's voice. "Finn, stop!"

An orange ball flew into the kitchen, landing on Donna's head. Not far behind it was the Doctor, dressed in his usual clothes, except without the suit jacket.

"Doctor," Donna was tired and _not_ amused. "What is on my head?"

"It's. . ." the Doctor gulped. "A kitten."

"A kitten?" Donna repeated. "Why is there a flippin' _kitten_ on my head?"

"I couldn't just leave him!" the Doctor cried.

"Leave him where?" Donna asked.

"You should have been there!" the Doctor cried.

"Why wasn't I?"

"You were asleep," the Doctor allowed himself a smirk.

"Ah," nodded Donna.

"I landed in Paris in 1920 to buy some bread," the Doctor continued. "And I also bought some of those little fish that I like—you know the ones I'm talking about!"

Donna allowed herself a small groan. The Doctor's obsession with the 'little fish' (neither knew what they were called) was worrying, but not overly so.

"But the bag I was carrying them in broke," the Doctor wailed. "I didn't know that until I was entering the TARDIS!"

"And?"

"And the kitten followed the fish!" the Doctor waved his arms at the not-so-great finale of his tale.

"So let me get this straight," Donna smirked. "You led the cat into the TARDIS, and when he decided to stay, you, overcome by the cuteness, let him?"

The Doctor nodded sheepishly, "Can we keep him?"

Donna rolled her eyes and grabbed her coffee.


	4. Cheeting Cheetahs

"Doctor?" Donna asked one morning over breakfast in Barcelona (the planet, not the city). "Why cheetahs?"

To anyone but the Doctor, this question would have seemed odd. However, given his habit of being even more strange than the things he faced, the Doctor merely chewed his food thoughtfully before offering Donna a bite. When she refused, he shrugged.

"I don't know why it was cheetahs _specifically_ ," he said. "It could have been any other animal. But I think it has something to do with the name."

"The name?" Donna asked incredulously.

"Well, yes," the Doctor nodded. "'Cheetah'. Sounds a bit like 'cheater', doesn't it?"

"That's not exactly fair to the cheetahs," Donna commented.

"Not fair to me, either," the Doctor grumbled.

"So the cheetahs cheated at poker when they were playing with you, just because of their name?" Donna barely concealed a smile.

The Doctor threw the Barcelonian equivalent of a chip at her, apologizing profusely when she glared.


	5. Dramatic Dinosaur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny crossover with Torchwood.

"Why're we in Cardiff?" asked Donna.

"Refueling," the Doctor said. "There's a rift in time and space that runs right through Cardiff, so we're just gonna get some for the TARDIS!"

"Oh," Donna turned away from the Console to look out of the TARDIS doors. "Why is there a dinosaur flying around?"

"Donna," the Doctor sighed, walking towards her. "There are no dinosaurs in—oh!"

"Should we do something?" asked Donna.

The Doctor looked around. He looked at the dinosaur, a pterodactyl or pteradon, doing what looked like tricks as it flew around. His eyes landed on a quintet of people standing near the water. A Japanese woman stood next to with a rather grouchy, toad-faced man, shooting him glances. Even closer to the bay, the Doctor recognized none other than Captain Jack Harkness. He was standing close to a well-put-together man in a suit and red dress shirt. In between the two couples was a woman with long, brown hair and a leather jacket.

"No," the Doctor decided. "Donna, let's go."

"Why?" Donna squeaked as she was pulled back into the TARDIS.

"We'll refuel in another time," he said. "2015 sound good?"

If Jack looked at the water tower, he would have seen a disappearing blue box. But he didn't—he was quite content to stay where he was.


	6. Extremely Enraged

In the Doctor's opinion, it was a good morning. He and Donna had gotten breakfast in the Vegas Galaxies, had not attracted any trouble, and Finn was nothing but adorable. Speaking of Finn—

"Doctor!" found Finn, then.

"Coming!" he shouted back, not wanting (read: daring) to keep Donna waiting.

The Doctor ran out of his room, trench coat billowing behind him. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, hair all over the place (then again, when wasn't it?), and Converse trainers falling off as they were not tied. It was a more dramatic look than Donna approved of, but the Doctor figured it was better for her to judge his fashion than to get mad at him for being late.

"Doctor!" she shouted again, this time, more agitated than before.

When the Doctor ran into Donna's room, he was surprised to see nothing out of the ordinary. Her room had a big closet, an adjoining bathroom, a double bed, and a wooden dresser that held various souvenirs.

Donna stood in the middle of her room in a light pink bathrobe over yellow pajamas. An expression of extreme fury was on her face.

"Doctor," she said calmly. "Where's Finn?"

"I. . . a-aah. . ." the Doctor stammered.

"I only ask that because he _was_ in my room," she continued. "In my slippers."

The Doctor gulped. He looked at the purple silk slippers near the door, a gift from the cat people of New New York. At least what used to be the slippers. They were shredded and covered in cat fur.

"Care to explain?" Donna asked.

The Doctor heard a bit of a commotion next to the bed. A nose twitched and blue eyes twinkled from beneath the covers.

"Mreow."


	7. Freedom Forever

The Doctor was smiling. Now, that wasn't anything new. He was _always_ smiling. At least, that's what he wanted people to see. But Donna knew that he wasn't always happy, that he didn't always smile. And that sometimes when he did, it was just for show.

But now! Now, he was glowing. He was _beaming_! He was dancing and almost singing! Donna had to admit that she was happy he wasn't singing—he was awful. But if singing meant that the Doctor was happy, she wanted him to sing forever.

She wished they could save an alien race from slavery every day if this was his reaction.

"Everybody lives!" he shouted.

Donna wished he could be this carefree and happy always.


	8. Ghastly Ghouls

"A real life haunted house?" Donna gasped, standing in front of the Tudor-era mansion.

"Well. . ."

"Stop!" she commanded. "I don't want to hear anything sciency today!"

"Okay," the Doctor lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture to show his agreement.

"Great!" she beamed. "Come on, Spaceman! Let's go see some ghosts!"

The Doctor smiled at Donna's enthusiasm. It was so contagious!

Five hours later, they ran out of the house, torn between laughing and screaming.

"I thought you said it was going to be a haunted house," Donna pouted.

"Well. . ."

Yeah, Zygons weren't haunted house material.


	9. Humoring History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one also crosses over with Torchwood.

"We can't, Donna!" the Doctor grabbed her arms and harshly started dragging her back into the TARDIS. "Not today!"

"No!" she cried. "Doctor, please! Please!"

"NO!" he shouted. "We _can't_!"

"Why not?" she begged. "Why _not_?"

"It's a. . . it's a fixed point in time," he explained. "If we interfere. . . if we do something to make it go differently. . ."

"Let me guess," she said scathingly. "It'll rip apart the whole of creation?"

"Yes!" the Doctor cried, locking the TARDIS' doors.

"But without Ianto. . ." Donna sagged into the Doctor's comforting hands.

"I know," he murmured into her hair. "But it's necessary. For the future of the human, as well as many other, races."

Outside, Ianto Jones died in Jack Harkness' arms, and the Doctor could not do a damn thing about it.


	10. Involuntary Impingement

They were running again. Not that either one of them was surprised. They were always running. But at least they always knew what they were running from. Now, they had no idea.

"In there!" the Doctor gasped, pointing to what looked like a closet.

Donna followed him in there. It was, as suspected, a closet. It was tiny. The Doctor arranged himself on a box and took out his Sonic Screwdriver.

"Oi!" Donna yelled.

"What?" the Doctor hissed. "We're still being chased. Be quiet."

"'What?'" Donna growled, quieter this time. "Don't 'what?' me, Spaceman. I know what you just did."

"What did I do?" he asked.

" _You_ know what you did," she argued.

"What?" he asked again, as the Screwdriver glowed blue.

"You just groped me!" Donna cried, keeping her voice low.

The Doctor gaped. He did no such thing. Maybe. . . when he took out the Screwdriver. . .

As Donna stared at him, the Doctor mumbled something that sounded like, "It was an involuntary impingement!"


	11. Joyful Joker

"Never thought I'd be at King Arthur's court," Donna whispered to the Doctor as they sat at a huge wooden table.

"Really?" the Doctor asked, taking a bite of what tasted like chicken.

"Well," Donna put down her goblet. "It's not like I knew we could."

"Good," the Doctor said.

Donna wasn't sure if he was talking about her thoughts, the food, the court, or about the entertainment a knight had told them would follow.

Speaking of the entertainment. . .

"Doctor?" Donna asked. "What's the entertainment?"

"You'll see," he smiled.

"Wait," Donna said as a fanfare started playing. "I think it's coming."

"Who?" the Doctor lifted his face from his plate.

"The show!" Donna cried, being careful not to startle those around them.

"Oh!" the Doctor seemed excited.

A man ran into the room. He was dressed in bright clothes and had a wide smile on his face. Donna looked at his colorful hat.

"A joker!" she cried excitedly, remembering what the Doctor told her about their many talents.


	12. Kangaroos & Koalas

"Why are we in the middle of Australia?" Donna asked, getting back into the TARDIS after a minute-long walk outside.

"The TARDIS broke down," the Doctor said patiently. "Fixing her will just take an hour."

Donna sighed.

She knew the TARDIS pretty well, but without the ship to guide her, Donna had to admit she was a bit lost.

"Someone should really make a map of this place," she muttered. "Just to be used in these situations."

Donna opened a door. She had no idea what it was, but. . . that was part of the fun, wasn't it?

"The library," she sighed. "Well. . . might as well."

She walked around the giant room, picking up books and reading some of them.

"'Kangaroos & Koalas'," she read. "Why not?"


	13. Laughing Lions

_When the TARDIS crash-landed somewhere in Africa, Donna knew that the day was going to be strange. Well. . . normal. The line between strange and normal blurred a long time ago. Anyway!_

_The Doctor, being the genius that he is_

"Doctor, what are you writing?"

"Or not."

_The Doctor, also knowing that they were headed for an adventure (but not surprised about it), checked the TARDIS screen to see where they were._

"But you said it was in Africa!"

"Shush!"

"Doctor. . ."

"Sorry."

_The Doctor re-checked the screens to see if they were still in Africa._

"Why wouldn't—sorry! Shutting up now."

_As it turned out, they hadn't moved._

" _Let's go!" he shouted to Donna._

_Donna smiled wide and followed him out._

_She gasped in astonishment at what she saw. Greenish grass was all sound them and there were some trees a couple meters away. The sun was very bright and hot, and Donna opened her mouth to complain._

"Oi!"

"I'd say something about resting my case, but you are quite terrifying."

 _The Doctor suspiciously looked around. It was_ peaceful _. It was_ never _peaceful when the Doctor was concerned. Alright,_ almost _never peaceful._

"Is there a point to this part?"

"I'm getting there!"

" _Aha!" the Doctor shouted, pointing to a group of animals that were grazing nearby._

" _What?" Donna asked, turning to look at where he was pointing._

" _That doesn't look right," the Doctor told her._

_Donna followed him to the animals. They were doing their best to be quiet, and cringed when the grass crunched under their feet._

"So you're going for the mysterious air, now?"

"So what if I am?"

" _AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" came a loud laugh from the direction of the animals._

_Donna jumped._

"Ahem."

_So did the Doctor. It was a very human laugh. But how could it be? There were no people nearby. Not for miles!_

" _The Princess Bride_ , Doctor, really?"

_Donna pointed to the animals. "Are they supposed to look like that?"_

" _Like what?" the Doctor asked, putting on his glasses and scholar face._

"Hey! You're not allowed to steal my pen!"

"I was borrowing. Besides, it is a 'scholar face'."

"It is a bit, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Can I have my pen back? Thank you."

" _That," Donna stated._

" _No," the Doctor agreed. "No they're not."_

"Get on with it!"

_The animals were strange._

"We got that, already, Spaceman."

_There were lions, tigers, gazelles, and hamstery-ghopher things._

"'Hamstery-ghopher things'?"

_They were all standing in one group, which was strange itself, but they didn't look normal. They looked. . . well, cartoonish. Almost as if they came out of "The Lion King". And they were rather rudely laughing at the Doctor and Donna._

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"You said you were going to write down our 'adventure' and turn it into a legend for the future generations of the animals."

"Oops."


	14. Mad Martian

The Doctor considered Donna his best friend. She was the first companion in a while that didn't love him. It felt nice. He could talk to her (not that he did), and she could talk to him. The number of times they were mistaken for a couple was alarming, but they could deal with it.

She took his ideas in stride and only called him "mad" once a day. She knew when to talk and when to stay quiet. Donna was good at distracting him, as well as others, and could give him, and the aforementioned others, a good whack when necessary. Donna was sweet and kind (in her own way), and smart.

The Doctor knew that one day, he would have to let her go. He just hoped that "one day" was not soon.


	15. Nasty Nobility

"And then we had to run away!" the Doctor dramatically finished telling Donna about how he and Martha met Queen Elizabeth I.

"When doesn't it end in you running away?" Donna smiled.

The Doctor looked pensive for a moment, then said decisively, "Never."

"Why is it that people of power always get mad at you?" Donna asked.

"Well. . ." the Doctor looked at you. "I never actually met a noble that liked me."

"Oh," Donna nodded.

"Never met one I liked at out first meeting either," the Doctor said, trying to remember a time when he did something but admire royalty at first sight.

"Doctor," Donna said.

"Oops," the Doctor gulped, realizing that he had just insulted Donna.

The TARDIS spent the next thirty (or twenty. . . or forty. . . it's a time machine!) minutes playing host to one of the strangest games of Tag ever.


	16. Oval Orchids

"And here we have the Garden!" the Doctor exclaimed like a tour guide as he showed Donna around yet another planet.

"'The Garden'?" Donna questioned. "Very creative with names, aren't they? 'The Library'? 'The Garden'?"

"I guess," the Doctor shrugged.

"Look!" someone, most likely a tourist, shouted in the distance.

Donna looked. Even though the command was not directed at her, she had to admit, the planet, appropriately dubbed 'the Garden', was beautiful.

"Is that—" Donna looked toward the Doctor for guidance.

The Doctor twirled to her and whipped out his Sonic Screwdriver. He ran it up and down the flower.

"Yup!" he nodded. "It's a dandelion!"


	17. Purely Platonic

Did they really look like a couple?

Surely not!

They never held hands (well, except for when they were running), and they didn't touch more than necessary (at least, Donna didn't think so).

They didn't look overly affectionate with one another, and they—she knew that this was as sure a fact as that the Earth spun around the Sun—didn't speak grand declarations of love to each other.

She understood why someone could have been attracted to the Doctor, knew why Rose had been. With her it must have been obvious, but Donna could find no reason for there to be those same thoughts about her.

They were just friends, for God's sake.

And for someone's sake, she should stop thinking about it and go save the planet.


	18. Quite Quiet

Donna and the Doctor stared at Finn as he rolled across the dinner table in the TARDIS' kitchen. The kitten was quietly chasing a couple small brown balls.

"He's awfully quiet, isn't he?" the Doctor asked as he leaned toward the table in his glasses and scholar face.

"You're complaining?" Donna asked.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "No, of course not."

"He's so cute, though," Donna observed.

"Really?" the Doctor tilted his head. "'Cute'?"

"Just because you're jealous," Donna smirked.

"Oi!" the Doctor waved at her, running out of the kitchen after his companion.

"What?"

"I'm not. . ." the Doctor panted. "Jealous."

"Of course not," Donna agreed. "Where are we going?"

"How about the Vegas Galaxies?" the Doctor offered, already pressing buttons and flipping levers.

"Sounds good," Donna clutched a beam as the TARDIS started shaking. "Can we get some figs, though, first?"

"Figs?" the Doctor paused and was almost flung to the floor. "What do you need figs for?"

"To calm Finn down," Donna explained. "Just to have them, in case we need to occupy him."

The Doctor flipped another switch and the TARDIS stopped for a nanosecond (or something like that) before making a U-turn and going the other way.


	19. Romancing Rose

There were days when the Doctor would get quiet. He would stop bouncing around and would stare into space. Sometimes, Donna would catch him fingering a ring that looked suspiciously like the one he bio-damped her with. His hair, as well as everything else, would droop and hang limply for a while.

Donna didn't know exactly what he was thinking about or if this was what Timelords did to rest, but he looked sad, so she assumed the former. He could have been thinking about the Time War, of the billions of Timelords he destroyed. Maybe he was thinking of Rose, who knew?

But she hated when he did that. She didn't know what to do. He was sad. He was lonely. That was what she knew about him. But in these moments of what she suspected was mourning, she realized what she really knew about him.

_Nothing_.

Well. . . maybe not nothing. She knew that no matter what he said, he was not alright. He was not invincible, at least not emotionally.

And Donna didn't know what to do. That was what bugged her most about the mysterious Doctor that somehow stole a huge chunk of her heart and wasn't giving it back anytime soon.

But Donna knew that soon they'd find another planet to save, another villain to defeat. Sure, they'd both shed tears and yelled about the injustice of it all, but that was what they did.

If they didn't, who would?

It wasn't fair, but what could they do?


	20. Scary Spiders

Donna, no matter how many she saw, always marveled at alien planets and different times. She suspected that the Doctor did too, no matter how flippant he acted.

They were, at the moment, in a market ("Donna, it's called a 'bazaar'!") in the Andromeda Galaxy (or something like that). It didn't look much different from Earth markets. It was bustling with aliens (" _We_ are the aliens here, Donna!") who ran to and from tents with merchandise.

Donna followed the Doctor through the crowd. It wasn't always easy to see him, but Donna managed to keep track of the Timelord due to the flurry of activity that always seemed to be around him, busy market or no busy market.

The aliens ("They're aliens to me, Doctor!") we speaking different languages, but Donna suspected (and was later told by the Doctor) that most of them were just variations of the same one. Amidst the chattering, at regular intervals, she heard the Doctor yell her name, checking if she was still behind her.

The Doctor never stopped. He never stopped running, he never stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet. His hair also seemed to be in constant motion. It almost fizzed and crackled with the Doctor's excitement. Even his coat had a life of its own. Always billowing and getting out of sticky situations (Donna would know—she helped clean it).

And Donna, like so many others before her, always ran after him. She was hot on his heels, eagerly listening to all he was saying, no matter how ridiculous it is. She was following him so well, she didn't even notice that he stopped.

Donna ran right into the Doctor's back, and fell flat on the ground behind him at the impact. He didn't turn around, or apologize offhandedly. His back, Donna now realized, was stiff as a board (and not the ones found on Raxicoricofallapatorius) and his hair was moving rapidly. At first she thought that the movement was a usual one, but Donna was wrong. His hair, if it could be described as such, was shaking with fright.

"Doctor?" she said hesitantly, standing up and brushing off her dress.

"Let's go!" he cried.

It was, to a casual observer, a cheerful response. It was what most expect from the Doctor, it was an enthusiastic cry, a happy one. It was a cry to get back to normal.

But Donna, being Donna, wouldn't let that pass. She brought her gaze to what the Doctor was looking at before. At first, she couldn't see it. Then, she did.

Sitting on a ledge of a building, was a tiny spider. It was black. At least, that was what it looked like to Donna. It wasn't all that menacing, really. But then again, Lance had been afraid of roosters, and Nerys wasn't good on anything higher than an office chair.

It was only fitting for the Doctor to have a fear, too. But Donna supposed it was more of a phobia. Either way, he was terrified.

"Sure," she sighed.

But the Doctor was hesitant to move. That, or he couldn't. He looked like he wanted to, but to Donna, it looked like he was stuck to the floor. His face was twisted, like he was trying to smile, to look confident, but the muscles refused to work.

Donna reached toward him. The Doctor wasn't against touch, but he was usually the one that instigated it. When her hand made contact with his shoulder, the Doctor gave a little startled gasp. He looked at Donna with a surprised smile. It was small, but real. Donna's hand slid down the Doctor's arm, and grabbed his.

And then they were running. Where to? Where from? They don't know. But they're running, and they're never going to stop.


	21. Shaking Shoulders

The Doctor got lonely. Donna was aware of that. He lived long, and was the last of his kind. His companions would always eventually leave him, as had Rose.

It was up to him to protect the universe, and it didn't matter at what cost. The Doctor would always end up sacrificing something, sometimes someone.

No one would think this when they first met the mad, skinny alien in a suit and trainers, but he had the fate of all humanity (and alien-ity) on his shoulders. Donna didn't think it at first, but once she saw the Timelord mad. . . well. . . she believed it.

To think that the only thing keeping the universe going was the Doctor was absurd. But it was true. And Donna worried about him.

Because sometimes his shoulders, so strong and sure and keeping up the world, would shake. The Doctor wouldn't be able to save everyone. And he would beat himself up over it, and Donna wouldn't know what to do.

So, yes, Donna worried about him. Even though she knew she couldn't help him, she would try. It was so much more important than her unaccepting mother, than Lance's betrayal. Because the Doctor was her best friend.


	22. Trickly Triassic

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

What else can they do?

Other than be dinosaur chow?

Get away. Get away. Get away.

And why? Why are they in this predicament?

Because someone decided to make the TARDIS' outside invisible.

Where are you, TARDIS? Here, TARDIS! Here, TARDIS-TARDIS!

Yes, Donna was most likely suffering from heat over-exposure.

Besides, what else would she be suffering from in the Triassic?

Oh, yeah!

Being chased by a T-Rex!

Thank you, Doctor!

For a super-smart Timelord, he has no common sense!

You just don't put the TARDIS on invisible and poke a T-Rex with a stick, because you will have to run away from it!

Survival in the Triassic: Day 1.

Or at least until they find the TARDIS.


	23. Theater Thoughts

Donna stood next to the Doctor in the lobby of a theater. He had been forced into a time-appropriate outfit, and she had taken pleasure in wearing a deep burgundy gown. They mingled with the rich—slightly snobby and annoying—people around them, waiting for the doors to open.

"So what are we seeing?" Donna asked, realizing that the Doctor had never actually told her.

"You don't know?" the Doctor had a puzzled look on his face, and replied at Donna's shake of the head, "Hamlet."

"Shakespeare's first?" Donna smiled.

"Yup," the Doctor popped the 'p' with a self-satisfied smile.

"Why aren't we down there with the people?" Donna wondered.

"Been there, done that," the Doctor replied nonchalantly. "Thought I'd see how the other half lives."

"Alright," Donna took his other arm as the doors opened and the crowd moved forward.

"That was nice," the Doctor observed as he and Donna walked the darkened streets of 16th century London.

"It was," she agreed. "That guy looked an awful lot like you, though."

If Donna had been looking at the Doctor and not at the ground so as not to trip, she would have noticed the Doctor's light blush as he said quickly, "How about we see Oscar Wilde?"


	24. Unanimously United

Finn was lonely. At least, that was what the Doctor thought. Donna wasn't so sure, but she had nothing against getting another cat to keep Finn company.

So, one day, they landed on Earth. The Doctor went to a pet store to buy another cat while Donna went to a mall. They agreed to meet up in the TARDIS in three hours.

"Wonder what cat he's going to get," Donna muttered as she munched on some chips.

She was tired. She had spent two hours shopping and had gotten through all the stores with very much luck in purchases. She had to admit, it was very unusual doing something which didn't involve running and constant danger.

Meanwhile, the Doctor was walking the isles of Petco. He had seen hamsters, rats, snakes, fish, and guinea pigs (he will not think about the spiders). But no cats! No dogs, either.

So he decided to go to a small, family-owned, pet store on the other side of the road. It didn't seem crowded, given that such a big store that sold what it did was right across the street.

The Doctor casually walked in. With his suit, trench coat, and dirty converse, he looked out of place among the 1950's housewives and cheery children.

"Hello!" he cheerily said as he skipped up to the cash register.

"Hello," said the teenage girl minding the cash register.

"Do you have cats here?" he asked. "Always wanted a cat. Nice creatures, cats. Smart, too. Some of the smartest Earth mammals. Come to think of it. . . might not be from Earth. . ."

The girl popped her chewing gum and stared at the strange man in front of her.

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "So. . . cats?"

"Over there," she said, pointing to the other side of the store, where a large family were cooing at something.

"Thank you," he said, and ran to the cats.

The family he saw before, consisting of a mother, father, and about five children, were standing in front of a cage. It was the cage that held the cats and kittens. At the moment, there was only one it it. Its fur was a spotted black and brown, unlike Finn's bright orange.

"Brilliant," he whispered.

It was a beautiful kitten. It was rolling around the cage, looking wistfully at the family and sneaking glances at the lurking Doctor.

The family glanced at the Doctor in surprise when his shoes squeaked on the floor as he leaped to the cat.

"Hello," he said gently to the kitten.

It stopped rolling around and looked at him curiously. To the family's surprise, it gave a quiet meow. The Doctor smiled in response.

"Really?" he said, eyes wide with interest.

The kitten nodded and twitched its nose.

"I was wondering—hoping—" he stopped.

"Yes?" she asked, more impatiently.

But before she could inquire further, the Doctor dashed away, back to the kitten.

The family that stood there before, who had seen the Doctor talking to the kitten, who had seen the kitten responding, who had heard the Doctor mutter something about buying the cat, were still looking at the animal. Now, however, the two smallest children, ages two and four, were crying, while the two next of age, five and six, seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"It's alright," the father whispered, bent down to be on his kids' level. "We'll find another cat somewhere else."

"Why can't we have this one, father?" asked the oldest, eight-year-old, child, a boy.

"Because the other man, the one in the suit, is getting him," the mother patiently explained.

"Sorry!" the Doctor cried, bounding into the conversation. "Excuse me."

The mother shot the Doctor a disapproving look, as her children looked up at him sadly, and her husband looked ready to throttle the Timelord for making his children cry.

"Sorry," the Doctor lifted his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "But I couldn't help but notice. . ."

The family's eyes followed the Doctor's hand, which was gesturing at the kitten. The parents realized that their children were looking longingly at the animal.

"We must apologize," the mother said diplomatically. "It's yours."

"What?" the Doctor took a step back. "No, no, no! He's yours."

"What?" the mother echoed. "But. . . don't you want him?"

Her husband and kids were almost elbowing her, trying to get her to accept the pet.

"No, no. . . who, me?" the Doctor cringed at how fake he sounded.

The mother cracked a smile.

"Sir," said her husband. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the Doctor said.

The family walked away to the cash register. The Doctor heard some words, most about the cat and how much it cost. He knew there were no other kittens in the store, that there were no other pet stores nearby. He also knew that Donna would not want him to return without a companion for Finn.

About fifteen minutes later, the kitten's new owners left the store.

"You know," said the woman from the cash register, coming over to the Doctor. "It was a very nice thing you did there."

"Hmm," the Doctor nodded.

"You wanted that cat, right?" she asked, ignoring the fact that the Doctor wasn't listening.

The Doctor shrugged noncommittally and "Hmm"-ed again.

"Well, I don't have any more cats, but. . ." the woman smiled. "I think you'll like him."

* * *

"Doctor," Donna greeted. "How'd it go?"

"They didn't have cats," the Doctor said with a frown, walking away from the Console.

"So?" Donna wondered, setting down her shopping bags. "What did you get?"

"Sid," the Doctor calmly stated, gesturing to the kitchen. "He's with Finn right now."

"Who's Sid, then?" Donna asked, following the Doctor to the kitchen.

"See for yourself," the Doctor invited, opening the door for Donna.

In the kitchen, which, by the way, was a mess, Finn sat happily on the table with his new friend. The orange tabby gave a satisfied meow, curling into his companion's side. He, in reply, woofed loudly.

"A golden retriever, then," Donna stated. "What's for dinner?"


	25. Violent Victoria

It was supposed to be a nice trip to Victorian England. They would dress up, go sightseeing, and save the world.

Instead, they were running around London from the Queen, trying to find 13 Paternoster Row, where the Doctor's friends resided. The group of misfits whose help they were hoping for were Silurian Madame Vastra, her wife Jenny Flint; and their Sontaran Butler, Commander Strax.

Donna didn't exactly know what the Doctor did this time to infuriate the British Royal, but whatever it was, it was pretty bad.

"Stop them!" came shouts from behind the time travelers, and they picked up their pace.

"In here," someone grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled him into an alley, but not before he grabbed Donna and dragged her along.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked, pulling his arm free of the stranger's grip.

"Clara," the person, now revealed to be a woman, introduced herself. "Clara Oswin Oswald."

"Thank you, Clara!" the Doctor cried. "Wait. . . where are you going?"

Clara turned around. She was walking away, moving toward the big street. She smirked.

"An appointment, clever boy," she purred. "Run. . . and remember. . ."

She was gone.

"Donna," the Doctor asked. "What just happened?"

"She just saved us," Donna breathed. "Like River. . . in the Library."

"I wonder when I'll meet her," the Doctor said thoughtfully to himself, as if Donna wasn't there.

Donna tried to ignore the biting pain at his words, 'I'll meet her', as if she wasn't even there. And in a way, wherever the Doctor was right now, she _wasn't_ there.


	26. Woeful Wishes

Genies, like fairies and leprechauns, were fairy tales. Made up. Not real. Fake. At least, on Earth they were.

Fairies, or rather, beings that looked like fairies, existed in many places. The ones on Earth were evil. They abducted children and were able to travel in time. They had large, gray bodies, and sharp teeth. Their faces were coarse and mischievous. On other planets, they could either be benevolent or not.

Leprechauns were not native to Earth. They came there long ago from a galaxy far away. They liked to cause trouble, but kept all promises. If a person managed to ensnare one, they came unto possession of a being almost as powerful as the Timelords.

But genies, despite the rich history surrounding them, were, to a certain extent, absolute poppycock. Even if they were real, no one could physically have enough power to grant all those wishes, and make them legitimate.

When the Doctor and Donna visited a planet that was previously not visited by either him or any companions, they found that exactly that lived there. Genies. The Doctor, as he was always inclined to do, didn't believe it at first.

It was a time when he almost broke.

The genies, or whatever they were, could do anything. They could bring someone back from the dead, could travel across universes and dimensions. They could do what the Doctor couldn't do.

And they could bring Rose back.

They offered to do it, too. In exchange for—what was is again? Help with a bloody war? Countless innocent deaths? Pardon from punishment? It didn't matter what it was in exchange for. They could bring back Rose, his Rose, and they could be together again.

But the good of others always came before his, and so the Doctor swallowed heavily, shifted his weight, moved his sorrow to the back of his brain, and didn't cry. He didn't fix his life. Not this time. Nor the next.

Because fairy tales, happy endings. . . they weren't real.


	27. Xanax & Xenon

"Doctor?" Donna asked one day.

She would swear she learned more from him in one year than from all her teachers in school for ten.

"Yup?" he beamed, jumping out from under the console.

"What words start with 'X'?" Donna asked out of the blue.

"Um. . . English words?" the Doctor asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yes, Spaceman, English words!" Donna cried, amused.

"Well. . ." the Doctor thought for a moment. "X-ray, xanax, xenon—"

"What do they mean?" Donna interrupted him.

"What, x-ray?" the Doctor wondered. "It's—"

"No, no, no! The other ones! Xorax. . . or xenone. . . or something like that," Donna said.

"Oh! Xanax!" the Doctor realized. "It's an anti-anxiety agent. It's a benzodiazepine, 'xanax' is only its trade name."

"Oh," Donna nodded. "And what about the second one?"

"Xenon," the Doctor reached into one of his numerous bigger-on-the-inside pockets and took out his glasses. "Is an odorless, colorless, very unreactive gas. It's an element. It's found in tiny amounts in the Earth's atmosphere, and is commercially extracted from liquefied air. They—you—humans use it in bacterial, stroboscopic, and bactericidal lamps."

"Uh-huh," Donna nodded, her eyes wide. "I think I'm just going to look it up."

"But that is from the dictionary!" the Doctor cried. "Look!"

He took out an iPhone (of all the things) and clicked on the dictionary app. There, like he told Donna, with just a couple different words, was the definition for 'xenon'.


	28. Yellow Yarn

For just once, Donna hoped, they could have a nice, quiet, evening (or whatever time of day it was on the TARDIS), without life or death situations.

If it could (it probably could) life would be laughing Donna in the face. Because every time she and the Doctor tried to just have fun, something or someone always happened. And Donna was sick of it!

The Doctor was sick of it, too, but he was used to it. Which was why, when Donna shut herself in her room (she knew if she walked out, something would happen), the Doctor knew what she wanted, but didn't know how to help.

"Donna!" he called through the door. "Are you hungry? I have some Barcelonian apples here! Would you like a Raxicoricofallapatorian fish dish?"

"No, thanks!" she shouted back. "The TARDIS already gave me some food!"

The Doctor swore in Gallifreyan under his breath, cursing the ship's kindness and support. How could she side against him (it couldn't have anything to do with the fact that she got shot at whenever they went anywhere)?

The Doctor left Donna alone in her room once more. He was beginning to feel lonely. Donna had been hiding for two days now. Without anyone to ask questions or criticize him, the Doctor didn't know what to do. Neither Donna nor the TARDIS were letting him in. Were they boycotting?

"Donna!" he called her the next day. "Let me in!"

The Doctor heard some shuffling, then a muffled curse and a shout of "Just a minute!"

The door was opened by a fluffy pajama-clad Donna.

"Come in," she said. "Mind the yarn."

"What have you been doing?" he asked, stepping around the piles of yarn on the floor.

"The TARDIS and I have been watching rom-coms," Donna said matter-of-factly.

"'Rom-coms'?" the Doctor repeated, following Donna to the couch he insisted the TARDIS put in her room.

"Rom-coms," Donna replied. "We're on 'The Decoy Bride' right now."

"Oh, I haven't seen that one!"

"It's okay, we just started it," Donna patted the seat next to her.

"What else have you been doing?" the Doctor asked as Donna rewound the disc.

"Knitting," Donna said, holding up about ten pars of yellow socks.


	29. Zebra Zoos

The Doctor and Donna, for a change, went to Earth to have fun. They chose the most inconspicuous place they could, to be free of running and life or death situations.

"Tigers, gorillas, porcupines, anteaters. . . all in one place!" the Doctor said to Donna as they entered a zoo somewhere in America in the 3745th century.

"That _is_ the purpose of a zoo, Doctor," Donna smiled at him—over 900 years old, and still smiling like a kid at Christmas at the prospect of seeing all the animals.

"I know, Donna!" nothing could dampen his mood. "But it _is_ amazing!"

"Yes," Donna agreed. "Amazing!"

The tigers he was talking about, as well as the gorillas, porcupines, and anteaters, were only descendants of the original Earth animals. They barely resembled their ancestors, being much more useful and intelligent. For them, being in a zoo was a part-time job, one they took very seriously.

"Hmm. . ." the Doctor squinted through his glasses (Donna was beginning to think he really needed them) at the map. "Where are they?"

"Who?" Donna wondered.

"Zebras," the Doctor said. "There are always supposed to be zebras in zoos!"

Donna sighed and took his hand, leading him to the exhibit. Which was right next to them.


	30. Amphibious Apples

"Doctor, hurry up!" Donna yelled through the TARDIS doors.

"Perfection doesn't happen by itself!" he replied, just as loudly, from inside.

"Why are you taking so long?" Donna groaned quietly. "It's going to be dark by the time we actually reach the beach."

She leaned against the ship, looking at her nails from boredom. A whine from the TARDIS made her stand straight and turn to face the doors, which immediately opened. Donna raised and eyebrow at the emerging Doctor.

"What?" he asked defensively, seeing her expression.

He was dressed in a pair of garish swim shorts. They were a bright lime green and were sprinkled with cartoon clowns. On his feet were a pair of purple flip-flops, large flowers decorating the straps. Over his beach clothes the Doctor had on his trench coat. It looked awkward over his thin and half-naked body.

"Maybe you want to put something else on?" Donna offered carefully.

"These flip-flops are perfectly acceptable," the Doctor defended, wiggling his toes in them.

"They're a bit. . ." Donna paused, searching for the right word, "Loud. Don't you think?"

"I think they're superb," the Doctor brushed past her and walked towards the water. "Come on. We want to get there sometime today, right?"

"Right," Donna sighed as she followed him.

A bright sun lit up the surroundings from high in the sky. The clear, blue, almost Earth-like water sparkled invitingly. The Doctor stuck his umbrella into the sad, then discarded his flip-flops, coat, and towel next to it and ran towards the water. Donna followed him soon after.

The water was warm, perfect for splashing and swimming, which was precisely what they were doing. Hair was off-limits, but other than that, both had a field day.

"What's that?" Donna said suddenly, pointing a bit away from them. "Is it a jellyfish?"

"Where?" the Doctor asked, following her hand, then seeing what she was indicating, shook his head.

"What is it then?" Donna demanded, moving closer to him.

If the Doctor noticed the change in her demeanor, he didn't comment on it, instead saying, "It's like a guard dog."

"In the ocean?" Donna frowned. "Why would there be a guard dog in the ocean?"

"They needed them a long time ago," the Doctor explained. "Against invaders. The people here genetically modified various inconspicuous items, like sticks, plastic, fruits, so they can ambush those who would do the colony harm."

"So that's. . . what? A red flower?" Donna asked, her fears of jellyfish attacks alieved.

"I think it's an apple, actually," the Doctor replied. "But, look, it's swimming away."

Donna nodded, and soon they got out of the water and got back to their umbrella. There, the Doctor got out a grill from one of his pockets, followed by a bag of fruits.

"Ever had fried bananas?"


	31. Banana Benefits

Donna held the banana the Doctor had given her. He was bustling around, trying to start the fire as she sat in the shade, under their umbrella, waiting. Soon he had the fire started, merrily crackling under the evening sun.

"You're not going to eat that as it is?" he asked, almost horrified at the thought.

"I guess not," she handed it over. "Fry it, Spaceman."

He placed it, as well as the others he had brought from the ship, onto the makeshift grill. As the bananas were cooking, he sat down next to Donna and waited for them to be ready.

"Why bananas?" Donna asked suddenly.

"What?" the Doctor, startled by the question, looked away from the water.

"Why bananas?" Donna repeated.

"They're good for you," the Doctor replied. "And you can use them for many different things."

"Like what?" Donna wondered.

"Well, you obviously eat them," the Doctor offered. "You can whiten your teeth using the peel. You can make banana paper. You can make fabric or threads out of it. The leaves are sometimes used as plates. Bananas are sometimes used to bless weddings. Or, some people believe that spirits reside in them!"

The Doctor finished waving his arms around and his eyes lost their manic gleam as his rave ended. He turned to Donna, only to find her eyes unfocused and poked her in the arm.

"What?" she asked, looking up.

"You zoned out," he pouted.

"No I didn't," she protested. "I heard all of it. Did you leave anything out?"

"And memories," the Doctor said, and his hair seemed to droop a little.

He was pulled out of his funk by Donna pointing to the smoking grill and saying, "Is it supposed to smell like that?"

"No!" he replied, sunning toward it and taking Donna's opening to compose himself.


	32. Comfortable Cornfields

"We'll find him, I promise," the Doctor reassured Donna, though she thought his repetition of the words was more for himself.

"I know we are," she replied.

The Doctor kicked a pebble out of the way with his foot, frowning when it only rolled a few inches before getting stuck in the dried corn.

"He's not that far away," the Doctor said suddenly. "I can smell the trail."

"You can smell, after it has been over an hour, where your runaway kitten has walked? In a cornfield favored by cats?" an incredulous Donna asked.

"Well. . . that," the doctor agreed. "And I can hear him."

"Oh," Donna cracked a smile at the relieved one on the Doctor's face.

They looked over some of the remaining upright stalks of corn, where the Doctor said Finn's gentle meows were coming from. Donna's face melted into an adoring, glassy-eyed smile, as did the Doctor's.

"Should we take him back to the TARDIS?" Donna wondered.

"Let's let him sleep," the Doctor decided, looking briefly at Donna before settling his gaze back on the orange ball of fur curled up in a pile of dried corn leaves.


	33. Cheery Chase

Donna gaped as the Doctor jumped over the railing into the small car, but didn't have time to question it as she was dragged in as well. The Cangonite that had challenged the Doctor to getting through the ride to the other side of the room was already in a car and trying to do so. Her knees rose up to her chest, and his didn't fit much better. The fancy coat he wore was bunched up on the seat, his suit wrinkled where he was sitting on it.

"This isn't going to work!" Donna cried as the Doctor made a particularly sharp turn.

"Yes, it is!" he replied, dodging another car, knowing the need for stopping any conflicts that might arise between them an the angry aliens. "The Cangonites are very competitive. If we win, they'll leave us alone."

"And if we lose?' Donna wondered, looking behind them to see if the Cangonite was anywhere near.

"We won't have time to cry about it," the implications of the answer made Donna shudder, and only the Doctor's presence stopped her from doing anything about it.

Instead, she hung on tighter to the pole in the back of the small car and let the Doctor bump their way to victory, as the clown on the front of the car smiled joyfully.


	34. Docile Dolphins

"It's bigger on the inside," Wilf mumbled to himself, stepping into the TARDIS behind the Doctor.

Donna closed the door behind them, "Where do you want to go?"

"Where can we go?" Wilf wondered.

"Anywhere," Donna grinned, exchanging a look with the Doctor.

"Do you want it to be a surprise?" the Doctor asked, already at the Console controls.

"Sure," Wilf shrugged.

"Then I suggest we hold on," Donna prompted, still smiling, as the two of them grabbed onto a piece of the railing.

The TARIDS started flying, the sound of its departure echoing throughout it, making the Doctor almost laugh with glee. Donna exchanged a look of excitement with her grandfather, then one with the Doctor. When the ship landed, Wilf looked around in wonder, sensing that something had happened, but not sure what.

"After you," the Doctor beckoned, pointing towards the door.

Wilf pointed to himself, as if asking if the invitation was meant for him, and, when both the Doctor and Donna nodded, shrugged, and whispered, "Here goes."

"Well?" Donna asked, a hand on her grandfather's shoulder, after she and the Doctor had followed him outside.

"Unbelievable," Wilf breathed. "Can I?"

"Of course," the Doctor replied. "It's all yours."

Wilf needed no further invitation and walked closer toward the water.

It sparkled under the sky as the clean grass bent under their feet. Bright flowers twirled in the light breeze and tall trees gave no shade as their transparent leaves bent the light. In the water, serene and free of waves, dolphins chirped as they flitted around in and out of sight. A fin was seen, the body sliding under the water's surface, as the Doctor and Donna joined Wilf in observing the paradise.


	35. Eventful Evening

Donna settled on the couch in one of the TARDIS's many living rooms. The day had been uneventful, just dinner and a movie. Of course that had been on New Delhi, the planet, not the city. Now, though, while the Doctor was off fiddling with the Console, Donna was trying to find something to take up her time while she knitted. She had settled on watching another movie, but couldn't figure out which.

Giving up, Donna tilted her head back on the cushions, frowning when, instead of sharply hitting the wall, she felt her head going into it. The lack of impact made her sit up and look back. Just as she thought, a portion of the wall was indented, broken. Through one of the cracks, however, she saw a piece of paper or cloth poking through.

"What was that?" the Doctor's loud and questioning voice and the opening of the door sounded at the same time.

"I think I broke the wall," Donna apologized as he came closer and peered at it.

"Impossible," he breathed. "The TARDIS is indestructible."

"Unless. . ." Donna took out the paper, which turned out to be a thick notebook. "She wanted us to find it."

"Really?" the Doctor squinted at the writing on the front cover, then, to Donna's smirk, took out his glasses.

"'A Guide to Travelling with the Doctor'," Donna read, and the Doctor's eyebrows rose.

"She left a guide?" he asked. "She _wrote_ a guide?"

"Clearly," Donna replied, a noise from the TARDIS whining in agreement, as she started turning the pages. "Should we read it?"

"Is it meant for me?" the Doctor asked.

"Does it even matter?" Donna invited, something with which the Doctor could not find fault.

**The Rules of this book are observed by Sarah Jane. I won't refer to myself in third person, except for that first sentence. Whoever finds this—Doctor, yes, you do have permission to read this—I hope you enjoy the time you spend on the TARDIS. Both she and the Doctor are amazing hosts!**

**Rule 1: The Doctor lies.**

**At least that's what he tells you. He barely ever lies. And if he does, it's to protect you. It** _**does** _ **get annoying. But don't worry—when it truly matters, he will tell you what you need to know!**

"Doctor?" Donna wondered, as both lifted their eyes from the page. "All of these are true, aren't they?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Sarah Jane wouldn't lie. You should meet her."

"We will," Donna agreed. "We'll visit her, right?"

"Yeah," the Doctor replied, and they turned back to the notebook.

**Rule 2: You** _**will** _ **love him.**

**And don't try to deny it. I'm not saying that you're interested in him romantically, but you** _**do** _ **love him. Whether it's like a brother, or a best friend. And one of you. . . he will love one of you back. I pity you.**

**P.S. (2004) Rose, you are one lucky lady.**

"She knew?" the Doctor whispered, almost to himself.

"She's perceptive," Donna smiled, and the Doctor did too, albeit weakly and full of the pain of remembrance.

**Rule 3: He will do anything for you.**

**The Doctor is the kindest man. Don't underestimate him, and those words are aimed both at you and at potential enemies. If it means that you will be saves, he will run into a burning sun.**

"We would do the same for you, Doctor," Donna promised. "You know that, don't you?"

"I do," he swallowed to restrain the tears. "Oh, I do."

**Rule 4: Appreciate the TARIDS.**

**She is as much his keeper as you are. She is your friend, your mother, your aunt, and your teacher. She is one of the only reasons he is alive. Love her, just as you love him.**

"It's good she didn't leave her out," the Doctor laughed at Sarah Jane's accuracy. "A cranky TARIDS is not what you need."

"Don't insult her," Donna scolded, as the ship made a berating noise.

"I'm not," the Doctor defended.

**Rule 5: Don't insult any aliens.**

**Trust me. Not only will the Doctor be disappointed—the worst feeling there could ever be—but it's just plain mean. I don't even want to remember the time I mistook Venetians for Martians. I got a lecture on how some aliens have square heads and some have triangular heads, and that it's never right to mess their species up with the ones that have elongated heads. And how sometimes the alien is you.**

"She's right, you know," the Doctor nodded, remembering the time she had written about.

"I really want to meet her," Donna repeated.

**Rule 6: You will never be forgotten.**

**It's something that, maybe, comes with the species. Time Lords are creatures that are, essentially, made out of time itself. I don't think that they** _**can** _ **forget something. And for one as lonely as the Doctor, it's something that is both a blessing and a curse. You could be the one that broke him, or you could be the one that made him. Or both. For your sake, I hope you're just one of the many.**

**You are special. Don't ever doubt that.**

"Are you okay?" Donna prompted, not able to see the Doctor's face since it was bent so low and close to the paper.

"Yeah," he replied, a bit shakily. "I am."

**Rule 7: For the one that is his true love:**

**You are incredibly lucky. You hold his heart. And, ultimately, you will destroy him. Cherish what you have. And for God's sake, don't abandon him. Don't hate him when he abandons you.**

**P. S. (2004) Rose. This means you. I don't know if you will ever read this, but if you do: we all wanted to be you. Show him the love we wanted to.**

"She's safe," Donna reminded the Doctor who seemed to have withdrawn into himself. "Remember that."

"I know," and then the Doctor smiled, broken but fixable. "She's safe. And she's so incredibly special."

**Rule 8: For the one that is his best friend:**

**I don't know who this is for. Maybe we'll never know. I don't know. But I do know that there was many that he had called his best friend. The one that is, however cheesy this may sound, his BFF (a new century term), is a truly wonderful person.**

The Doctor, who was turning the pages, stopped. He looked over at Donna, who was still reading what looked to be the last few sentences. Suddenly, his stomach growled.

"Hungry?" Donna asked. "I swear, you're an all-consuming hole."

"Just a bit," the Doctor looked down, thoroughly berated.

"Late night snack?" Donna inquired, and needed no answer but the Doctor's back as he led the way out of the room, taking the invitation to both get food and leave the memories alone.


	36. Fantastic Fans

Donna fanned at herself half-heartedly with a hand. The small movement of air did nothing but move a few stray hairs on her head. She groaned in annoyance as a bead of sweat made its way down her face and fell from her chin onto her chest. In an effort to become an intimate acquaintance of the sudden breeze, Donna lifted her face and sat up straighter. To her immense frustration, the coolness disappeared before she had a chance to feel it further.

Suddenly, a hand tapped her shoulder. She turned around, only to see that it was the Doctor. At her questioning glance, he took her hand and helped her out of the beach chair she was sitting in.

His hair stuck to his face from the heat, the brown darker than usual because of the sweat it was drenched in. He was wearing a light shirt and shorts, just as Donna was in a swimsuit.

"Where are we going?" Donna asked, already out of breath.

"Major heatwave is coming," the Doctor pulled her along.

"The TARDIS?" Donna prompted.

"In our hotel room," he replied.

Donna was pulled into the room by her right arm, and the Doctor closed the door directly after that. The protective material in the walls kept the harmful radiation out as they took turns in the large shower.

Then, seated together on one of the large couches, they breathed in the fresh air—"And don't you dare tell me that this is just hot air being blown around, it's alien and it feels _good_ , Doctor!"—from a small, handheld cross between a fan and an air conditioner that had been handed out to all tourists.


	37. Gastro Gangers

**Ganger Survives Lightning – Safety in Artificiality**

_India, 5:37 AM – A freak thunderstorm and a tall tree. Two ingredients that could prove fatal to anyone. But there was an exception. Standing under the tree, at that one second that is was hit by lightning, was an artificial human._

_They're commonly known as "Gangers", and are completely harmless to humans. Made in the image of a specific human, and doing the task of that human, they are almost indestructible. They can take extreme temperatures, and don't feel pain. Gangers are the ultimate tool._

_This particular Ganger—short for doppelgänger—was a manual laborer, as so many of his kind are. While searching for minerals in the Earth, the thunderstorm struck, and he was caught in it. The tree that had been hit by the lightning exploded at the impact fell onto the Ganger, who caught on fire. He survived, and is now in good condition, and back at work._

_Gangers seem to be the primary pebble on the path to safe labor._

**Earth. May 11, 2317**

**Gangers – A Safe Way to Work or Our End?**

_India, 10:29 PM – With the world applauding the Ganger, who, earlier today, survived a blast by lightning, one question remains. Is it a sign of God, or one of Satan? While it is true that Gangers make labor safer, is there a cost? A cost that overrides the benefits?_

_After being hit by the tree that had been caught on fire by lightning, the Ganger, who was also on fire, got up. He returned to his place of employment, where he was returned to working condition._

_Hours after that, the Ganger exploded. And I ask again: what for? Is there any point of them, other than to feed the laziness of humans? Furthermore, that happened too close to his human colleagues. Particles of the Ganger ended up in their windpipes._

_Another hour later, they were admitted to the hospital with damage to their gastro-intestinal and lung systems. It was revealed that the particles had gotten what seemed to be minds of their own, and started attacking the human bodies, seemingly viewing them as threats._

The Doctor scoffed and tossed the newspapers onto the dinner table, then turned to Donna and asked, "Maybe we should pick another place to visit?"


	38. Hungry Hummingbirds

Donna looked at the TARDIS door lovingly. On the blue background, above the "Police Box" sign, was a small hook, on which, now, hung a hummingbird feeder. The light pink liquid in it swirled and cast colorful shadows onto the ground as it swung in the gentle breeze.

"Having fun?" the Doctor came up to her and followed her gaze.

"Yes," Donna nodded with a proud smile. "And the birds will be, too."

"There aren't that many hummingbirds in the Time Vortex," he said. "Or on Zorax 9."

"We spend a lot of time on Earth, too," Donna seemed unaffected by his dismissal of the feeder, and shrugged. "I'll take it off when it's not needed."

"Fine," the Doctor rolled his eyes. "But put out some other bird feeders, too. Don't discriminate."

Donna nodded, and soon did that, the Doctor getting the best feed he could find.

"Why did you have to do that?" the Doctor asked as he and Donna looked out of the TARDIS window.

"Because they like the food," Donna defended loudly, shouting over the hum of the birds.

"How long until they leave?" the Doctor sighed, resigned to keeping the TARDIS in place, not that she minded.

Donna sheepishly put her head down, "I don't know."


	39. Illiterate Iliad

The Doctor sighed, turning to Donna to make a grimace. She laughed at the affronted look on his face and shrugged. His response was a pout, followed by another small sigh.

"'Iliad' is spelled with one 'l'," she heard him correct.

Donna tuned out of the conversation once more, partly because most of it was the Doctor pointing out Homer's mistakes and partly because she wasn't a part of it. She was only in the room because the Doctor had insisted on it.

Any other time, Donna would have felt sorry for the Doctor, having to correct every single one of the man's mistakes. But it was his fault. He had been the one who had mocked Homer's storytelling abilities. He had been the one who had said he could point out at least a thousand grammatical errors. Really, he should have known better. And now, thanks to his penchant for offending people for no reason, they were stuck in Homer's home for the next few weeks, maybe even months. And it wouldn't have been so bad, really, if he would just focus.

And not overly insult their host.

Donna returned to the conversation at hand, only to realize that nothing had changed.

The Doctor was still standing over Homer's shoulder, still with a bored look on his face, and still pointing out every single one of the man's mistakes in his first draft of the Iliad.


	40. Jumping Jellyfish

"I like this," Donna sighed, facing the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded, and his face shifted towards the sun's warming rays. Donna felt the TARDIS, parked a few feet away in the sand, share the sentiment.

"When are we, anyway?" she wondered then, leisurely looking in front of her.

"'When'?" the Doctor repeated. "Sometime in the 37th century. Some resort planet. Private beach. The TARDIS took us here, so. . ."

"So you don't really know," Donna finished for him with a content and not-at-all surprised smile as a purple jellyfish flew through the air and landed back in the ocean.


	41. Killer Korat

"Are you sure about this?" Donna asked, looking around to make sure they were alone before continuing, " _Are_ you?"

"Yes," he replied, tired annoyance in his voice at the question, which had been asked already. Multiple times.

"Alright," Donna conceded, once again looking down the hallway. "Fine."

"Thank you!" the Doctor cried in triumph as the closet door opened, and ushered Donna inside.

Back in the hallway, a herd of security operatives stampeded past the locked door, followed by a small, grey, green-eyed creature.

"Think Mandy'll scare them away?" Donna quietly wondered.

"Yes," the Doctor confidently answered. "Finn says so."

"You're putting our lives in the hands of a cat," Donna's nostrils flared, "Because _our_ cat told you to?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Mandy's in charge here. She's. . ."

"A cat that rules the country with a regime of terror," she finished when the Doctor trailed away. "Who's going to save our lives."

"And then we'll free the planet from her," the Doctor confirmed confidently.

Donna rolled her eyes but didn't argue, knowing even if she couldn't find it, there was always genius in his madness.


	42. Legit Lies

_Rule 1: the Doctor lies._

Donna wasn't sure who had first told her that. Maybe it had been the Doctor himself, or one of his old Companions.

But one thing she _was_ sure of was that the very statement was a lie. Oh, she saw the irony of it. And it's truth.

Because when she really thought about it, he had never outright lied to her. He had definitely cut the truth's corners, had skipped some pages in answering, had lost meaning in translation.

The Doctor was old. Very old. The kind of old that came with history. The kind of history that came with a past. The kind of past that came with pain. The kind of pain that never went away.

And if she thought about it, inquiries about his well-being always came in the middle of life or death situations. Situations in which his mental state did not matter, in which he was so focused, he really _was_ alright, elated and helping people. Questions about his home were treated the same way, with a somber aloofness. But the main tactic of answering was avoidance, a sort of vague half-description.

Her questions about milk and eaten cookies were discarded with a casual "Is anything else missing?" and inquiries about Finn's whereabouts when he was up to no good were sent away with stories about past adventures.

So, yes, the Doctor did lie.

Even when he lied.


	43. Mind Mine

"How are we going to fix this, Spaceman?" Donna demanded from the Doctor's mouth as she marched along her own body.

"I don't know!" the Doctor's response came in a voice so high-pitched, the sound had never before exited Donna's mouth.

"Well, figure it out," Donna stumbled over her new body's too large feet.

"Of course I will," the Doctor quickly replied, stopping in his tracks and crossing his arms confidently.

"Why'd you stop?" Donna wondered, walking back to join him.

"One heart," he breathed deeply, "Timelord energy."

"Sorry," Donna absently hopped in place.

"Why're my arms not crossed properly?" the Doctor wondered then, causing Donna to yelp in surprise as her thought process—and absent observation of a butterfly—was interrupted.

"Because I. . ." she pointed at her body's chest, which his arms had accidentally pushed up. "You know. . ."

"Oh," he put his arms down and continued down the sand-covered path to the TARDIS (and the device that could reverse their body swap). "I'm good now."


	44. No Nothing

" _What_ are you searching for?" Donna finally asked from the couch she was sitting in, tearing away from the bright socks she was knitting.

"What?" the Doctor turned around abruptly, looking around with puzzlement. "Oh. . . nothing."

"Right," Donna nodded, despite the gesture and word, in disbelief. "And if you tell me what you're looking for?"

"I don't really know what I'm searching for," he shrugged. "But. . . I think that I _am_ searching for something."

"That doesn't make sense," Donna replied, then rolled her eyes. "Then again, nothing around here does."

" _That_ doesn't make sense," the Doctor pointed out.

"What?"

"You saying that nothing makes sense," he clarified. "You see, 'nothing makes sense' implies that it _does_ make sense, but _I_ know that you mean that no thing here _does_ make sense. But, if you say that nothing doesn't make sense, it not only is grammatically incorrect, it means that there is nothing that cannot make sense."

Donna frowned, "You lost me at the second sentence."

"It's like the phrase 'no nothing'!" the Doctor explained, completely abandoning his search and joining Donna on the couch to ramble. "It implies that there is no nothing, in the sense that there is no such thing as it, that it does not exist, that there is always _something_. In reality, the phrase is trying to say that there is nothing."

"You never even had me," Donna sighed and fondly shook her head.


	45. Oblong Octopi

"Ah, itchy, itchy, itchy, itchy!" the Doctor cried, hopping in place, sending piles of sand into the air around him. Donna raised an eyebrow at the frustrated sound, and, with a pout, he repeated, " _Itchy_."

"Right," she nodded. "You not contagious or anything, though, right?"

"'Contagious'?" he sputtered, and stopped hopping in surprise.

"Yeah. You're itching and everything, but you were fine when we came here," Donna explained. "Either you caught something here, which is pretty unlikely, because you said that it's safe, or it's something that happened before we came and you're only showing the symptoms now."

"I'm not contagious!" the Doctor stood still for another second before bending down and aggressively scratching his leg, right behind the knee.

"Then what?" Donna asked, and waited for the Doctor to stop itching.

"Jellyfish," he replied blandly, showing her a mosquito bite-esque mark on his leg. "Well, jelly-octopuses. . . well, just octopuses. Purple octopuses. Purple, giant octopuses."

Donna glared. "So you're saying that you went swimming on Sol 19, and that an octopus gave you a mosquito bite. After you repeatedly told me that the planet was safe."

"No. . ." the Doctor drew out. "Well, maybe. . ."

"Earth octopuses don't do that," Donna noted, surreptitiously backing away from where the waves lapped at their feet.

"Humans, honestly," the Doctor grumbled to himself, and louder, answered, "I didn't know. And now it's _itchy_."


	46. Practice/Perfect

The Doctor smiled wildly. He _was_ known to do that on occasion. Donna was used to the quirk of his lips, the way his teeth could be only barely seen though them. His eyes crinkled, sometimes even conveyed true joy. It _looked_ perfect.

He spilled some slime onto the floor, by accident—absentmindedly, yes, but an accident nonetheless—and the smile slipped off his face as he turned to guiltily look at Donna. She rolled her eyes when the scientist whose slime had just been destroyed merely shrugged.

Almost mechanically, she grabbed a rag and started wiping up yet another of the Doctor's messes. Just as she did, she saw him school his face back into calm and happiness.

If you practiced something long enough, you became perfect at it.


	47. Quixotically Quarantined

"Abd you'de sure aboud dis?" Donna sniffled miserably and blew her nose into a thick tissue.

"Posidive," the Doctor replied, taking the tissue box from her and grabbing a handful, which he promptly used.

"Well, id bedder!" Donna sneezed violently and almost spilled the green liquid in the mug that he had just handed her.

"Hab I ever dode you wrong?" the Doctor drained his own drink. "Don't answer that."

"You sound dorbal!" Donna cried in surprise.

"I told you it would work," he said smugly. "Best cure for Anctraunian flu ever created! Few more hours and we'll be back to normal."

Donna, not needing further coaxing, emptied her mug and put it onto the coffee table in front of them. She felt the effects immediately, and happily breathed through her newly decongested nose. "Thank you."

"Anytime," the Doctor grinned at the praise. "Pass the remote?"

Donna did so, and _101 Dalma_ _tians_ started playing. "You do know that we'll only be going to planets you know everything about for a while, right?"


	48. Roar & Run

"This is getting dangerously close to domestic, Doctor," Donna teased as she adjusted her gloves.

"Domestic?" he gasped. "Me? Never."

"Uh-huh," Donna nodded and helpfully pointed at the purple gift bag the Doctor held in his right hand. "And that's a well-disguised enemy-defeating weapon."

"It's pajamas," he replied defensively. "Classic Earth gift. And did you know. . . humans are the only species to celebrate the anniversary of birth? It's like, oh, I don't know, camping! Something so completely unique. Advanced, too, to commemorate aging while not getting vain about it. Sure, it spreads pretty quickly once you lot start colonizing, even forget its origins. . ."

Donna rolled her eyes, half-listening, and had the good sense to hold onto a railing as the TARDIS lurched and started moving.

* * *

"You made it," Vastra's voice was happy, even if a bit incredulous.

"Of course they did," Jenny said, standing at her partner's shoulder.

"No need to be defensive on their account, Dear," Vastra replied. "We both know the Doctor isn't always accurate with his piloting."

"But he has Donna," Jenny pointed out.

"True," Vastra conceded.

Both the Doctor and Donna had drifted away by then, him to give the birthday boy his gift, her to keep an eye on him. There was a large crowd around Geraint, who had just turned three, and the Doctor wasted no time pushing through it, while Donna stayed back.

"When are his parents picking him up?" asked a yellow-haired man, pointing at the Doctor and Geraint.

"Which one?" Donna smiled.

"The small one," he clarified, the stuck out his hand. "Henry. I'm the organizer for this thing. Vastra usually has me deal with public venues, at least when they're extra-terrestrial in nature. Fell through the Rift from 2017. I'm from Me-e."

"Donna," she replied, shaking his hand, noting that Henry looked human, except for the fluorescent color of his hair. "I'm the larger one's chaperone."

"Ah," Henry let out a small laugh. "Why did it have to fall to us to arrange the birthday party of a prince?"

"You're asking the wrong person," Donna replied. "We flew to get here. Apparently Vastra's familiar with Geraint's parents, and they were busy today. They'll come at around 9:00."

"Let's hope that London will still be intact by then," Vastra commented wryly, making Henry jump at her sudden appearance.

"Why wouldn't it. . ." Henry's eyes widened when he followed Vastra, Jenny, and Donna's pointed stares, and he trailed off.

"No reason," Donna quipped, louder than usual to be heard over the combined yells of the Doctor and Geraint (who apparently wanted to be called 'Rainy'), who ran from the park and into the city, the latter teaching the birthday boy how to be a Superhero.


	49. Soaking Socks

The TARDIS, as the Doctor had once explained, was female. He had told Donna in the outmost confidence, quietly and far away from the ship, that despite her function and appearance, was a sentient being. Donna had already suspected as much, so the Doctor's description of the TARDIS's moods, thoughts, and beliefs did not have much of an effect on her.

After that, despite already doing so, she made an extra effort to be nice to the ship, to cook her own breakfast if she felt the TARDIS was tired, and to clean up after herself. All things the Doctor did as well, she realized.

One of the first things Donna had been warned about were the TARDIS's mood swings, which, in the Doctor's words, rivalled that of any human female. A description she took offence to, both for herself and the ship.

* * *

Donna looked in satisfaction at a large pile of yellow yarn, then, with even more excitement, at a bigger pile of various knitted items. Those that she didn't keep for herself or give to the Doctor, had been added to the Wardrobe or given to those they met who were in need.

She was about to start making a replica of the Doctor's trench coat when she heard a loud, if distant, yell.

As far as she knew, nothing could have breached the TARDIS's doors, and if something _had_ , she was sure the Doctor or the ship would have warned her. So, with more curiosity than apprehension, she left her room and went in the direction of the shout.

The ship led her to the kitchen, a spacious, yet homely, tiled room. The Doctor, the source of the noise just as she had thought, was in the middle of it, growling at the floor. Or at his socked feet, she couldn't really tell.

"They're wet," he said softly, with the voice of one resigned to his fate.

"'Scuse me?"

He wiggled his toes in reply, "My socks."

Donna felt something like a satisfied giggle come from the TARDIS.


	50. Two Taunting Taxis

"Right, well," Donna looked around with a critical—if a bit wide—eye at the completely harmless vacation planet the Doctor had taken her to, "This is nice."

"Isn't it?" he followed her gaze with satisfaction.

"Yup!" she said with a smile so bright that it rivalled some of his. "Flowers, water, sunny sky. . ."

The Doctor grinned and continued, "Insects (non-violent of course), birds (ditto), no native humanoid lifeforms, and. . . what are you looking at?"

Donna looked at him, then back at the two cars that had caught her attention, and went back into the TARDIS, not sparing another glance towards the bickering machines. The Doctor barely managed to run into the ship before she whorped away.


	51. Shameful Shock

A chill was in the air, but only in the mornings. While some trees had already begun to change color, most were still clad in a rich green. But the season was not late, merely taking its time, and as the sun rose on the first day of Autumn, a gust of wind tore through the forest and the still vibrant grass was speckled with orange plumage.

With an offended squawk, a parrot flapped off his perch, head held high with righteous indignation. He hadn't been on Earth long, just a few days had passed since his spaceship had landed, but he was sure that blue boxes materializing on a hill and disturbing multiple habitats were not an everyday occurrence.


	52. Thriving Thrills

"Please?" the Doctor pouted.

 _A grown alien shouldn't do that so well_ , Donna thought as she finally nodded. _Then again, he's had so much time to learn._

She walked behind him at a less enthusiastic pace, to the roller coaster that rose on the horizon. The Doctor was still in her line of sight, pushing through the crowd in the park, and all she had to do was follow the enraged and surprised cries. But other than a few ruffled feathers, the Doctor had left her a clean path, and Donna had no trouble catching up.

"Why's tonight so special?" she asked when she was even with him.

"You'll see," he grinned and took her hand.

They walked the rest of the way like that, and when they reached their destination, both gaped. The orange skeleton of the roller coaster rose up before them, illuminated and almost shining gold from the lights that decorated it. Above them, a warm but cloudy sky hung low, but Donna didn't question further, not even when she saw the Doctor's face fall.

He paid for their tickets, and the two of them sat at the front of the wagon as eighteen more people piled in after them. The seats were filled, and even Donna, who hated roller coasters, was excited.

The Doctor nodded to the operator, and the wagon started moving. It rode slowly, and started gaining speed as it rose. By the time they reached the top, their surroundings had become nothing but a blur. But as they turned the summit, the wagon slowed to a crawl and the incredible view of the amusement park and surrounding country evened out to the passengers.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Donna asked quietly as the people behind them gasped and started taking pictures.

"Yup!" the Doctor replied, but beneath the enthusiastic pop of the 'p', he seemed to be disappointed.

"What's the matter?" she wondered then, and he shrugged, but replied quietly. "What?"

"I said that there's supposed to be a lunar eclipse tonight," he repeated. "Last time was in '82. 1982, that is."

"And?" she prompted.

"And I wanted to see it," he replied as they inched forward. "For real. Without cheating."

"Can't you do anything?"

In response, the Doctor lifted his screwdriver. The trusty piece of alien metals that had saved their lives more times than they could count. Almost an extension of the Doctor's hand. Almost an extension of his being.

"Can't you use that?"

"That would be cheating," he sighed.

"Not really," Donna reasoned. The Doctor gave her an incredulous look. "I mean, if, for some weird, unexplainable reason, your hand accidentally slipped to the screwdriver?"

"Continue."

"And if, knowing how excited the people would be if they saw such a rare eclipse, and how disappointed they would be if they missed it, you accidentally, unconsciously, sent the clouds away?" Donna suggested.

He didn't answer, but, as the ride continued its descent, Donna saw the moon, covered by an orange shadow, emerge from the clouds.

The wagon sped up again, and Donna's sense of wonder was washed out by the sense of her stomach falling to her feet, and by the sounds of the screams of her fellow coaster riders.


	53. Undertaking: Unnatural

The Doctor glared at the list in his hand before helplessly facing Donna. His face fell dramatically when he was met with a look of resignation.

_1\. restock/reorder kitchen_

_2\. do laundry (properly do it, none of that halfway nonsense)_

_3\. wash windows_

_4\. rake_

_5\. clean bathrooms_

_6\. apologize to Mrs. Suthers (I don't care if you had proper reason to think she blew up the street, it turned out she didn't)_

_7\. make the guest bedroom (Steve and Mary are coming to visit after you leave)_

_8\. make dinner for when we return_

_9\. fix the TV (no, it's not going to kill us all)_

_10\. get rid of things you don't need (there's a limit to sentimental value)_

_11\. feed the cat_

_12\. mop_

_13\. dust_

_14\. stay the weekend_

_15\. don't_

"She's sadistic!"

"She just wants us to make up for being a significant part of exploding the road the last time we came," Donna defended her mother. "And she and granddad are taking a break in the country. They'll be back in five days."

"Still," the Doctor whined, then huffed. "Besides, it's not the chores I'm against, or that we have to do them, it's the principle of the thing! They're easy, we'll be done in no time, but. . ."

Donna rolled her eyes and made another leaf pile.


	54. Voluptuous Velociraptor

"You better not get us stuck again," Donna warned as the TARDIS touched down.

"That was an accident!" the Doctor defended, throwing his hands up and finally conceding to lose the old argument. "I didn't know the chameleon circuit was turned on. Or that it worked."

"Aright," Donna interrupted what was sure to turn into a tangent, and headed to the door. "When are we?"

"And it's not like—" he stopped and blinked. "When are. . ? . . . 65 million years ago!"

"That's when the dinosaurs died, right?" Donna wondered. "Meteor, global temperature change, something big like that, yeah?"

The Doctor held the door open, "That's what we're going to find out."

* * *

They rested near a large lake, above which a group of pterosaurs were flying, but from the distance that they were at, the Doctor couldn't see the species. Mosasaurs, large and lizard-like, swam beneath the surface of the water, and a couple of small triceratops lumbered on the shore. The dinosaurs kept their distance from the Doctor and Donna, and seemed not to even be interested in them.

"Shouldn't they be at least a bit interested in us?" she wondered when yet another protoceratops slowly ambled past.

"We're not a threat," the Doctor shrugged. "And they've got enough on their hands."

"'Enough on their hands'?" Donna echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Something's coming," the Doctor suddenly stood up when the dinosaurs, one by one, started braying. "Something big."

Donna stood up as well, shoulder to shoulder with him, and looked at the sky. Clouds, black, gray, and brown, streaked across, blocking the sun and soon seeping away the warmth of the day. She exchanged a look with the Doctor, and hers became panicked when his turned grim. The dinosaurs looked around, at each other, and ran. Some ran to others of their kind, and yet some went to various plants, trying to take a last bite of food. Small, weak cries came to Donna and the Doctor's ears as young dinosaurs struggled to find their parents.

"What is it?" Donna's voice shook and she blindly grabbed for the Doctor's hand. "Doctor, what's happening?"

"Stay close," he whispered into her ear, and despite the grimness in his voice, Donna listened. She followed him, as if on oblivious instinct—for all she knew, he was leading her to her tomb.

They ran back to the TARDIS, stumbling over unfamiliar terrain and winding around falling vegetation. The ship opened its doors quickly, almost before the Doctor shoved them. Donna pushed them closed, and followed him to the console. The ground shook around them, and the ship did, too, so she held on to the railing, and even then felt in danger of falling.

The Doctor turned, victorious, to Donna, and pointed at the screen, "It's the—"

* * *

"Doctor?" Donna groaned when she felt something shift on her. "Doc-Doctor!"

"Donna?" a hand jabbed her stomach. "Donna, is that you?"

"Yes," she gasped when he climbed over her. "Doctor, watch out."

"Sorry."

He helped Donna sit up, and guided her to the couch. The Doctor ran to the lights and tried to turn them on, but they didn't work. He mumbled something, and hit them with his spare hammer, kept in his upper left inside coat pocket. A few hits later, the lights flickered on, and he grinned at Donna.

"You alright?" he asked then, as if remembering something, and ran back to the couch, where he kneeled in front of Donna. "You're not hurt?"

"Just knocked out," she replied. "Doesn't hurt. Feel free to check it if you want, though."

"Yeah, I think I'd like to," he nodded and took out a flashlight (outside lefthand pocket, right above the rest of its contents) to shine into her eyes and examine the bump on the back of her head.

"What happened?" Donna wondered, then opened her mouth for him to look inside.

"It was the meteor," the Doctor explained. "Well. . . not _the_ meteor, but _a_ meteor. Well. . . more like an object that flies through space. Well. . . more like a missile on a programmed course. Well. . . it was a Racnoss ship."

"Racnoss?" Donna's voice stayed steady. "Like the ones under H. C. Clements? Didn't they form the Earth? Didn't you get rid of them? What are they doing here?"

"They're the meteor," the Doctor breathed, ignoring Donna. "Of _course_! Mummy Racnoss forms the Earth, waits years for the eggs to hatch. Meanwhile, Daddy Racnoss hides from the Time Lords, tries to escape the Time War. When he's in the clear, he makes his way to his mate. Donna, it all makes sense!'

"What does?" she demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"The meteor," the strong words were accompanied by wild gestures, "It was the Emperor of the Racnoss! He came here to get his mate and children, but something stopped him, something, something stopped him. . . something stopped him. . ."

The Doctor trailed off and Donna stared at him as he stared at the door. Then he ran at it, and she felt tugged along by the sheer force of his enthusiasm. When he threw open the door, they were met with an orange-tinted landscape.

The sky was still overcast, but the clouds weren't moving. Completely still, they weren't gray anymore, instead, they had turned completely red. The previous wind was gone, replaced by a calm that didn't even let their footsteps crunch the ground they were walking on. The Doctor's hand moved to Donna's, and, for the third time that day, they moved with linked hands. The dinosaurs were lying on the ground, like everything else, immobile. They could have been mistaken for dead, if it weren't for the fact that they looked more frozen than lifelike.

"What happened?" Donna breathed, stepping around a T-Rex.

"They're. . ." the Doctor bent down and touched a triceratops's horn. "They're stuck."

"Stuck? How?"

"In time," he frowned. "They're suspended. The whole planet is. The Racnoss don't have this type of technology."

"Who does?" she wondered.

"Timelords," the Doctor replied. "That's why the Racnoss were targeted. They were a brutal civilization, but they angered the Timelords when they stole a time lock. This must be what they used it for."

"How do we stop it?" Donna asked. " _Do_ we stop it?"

"Wait," the Doctor got out his Sonic Screwdriver (outside righthand pocket, top of the pile, directly next to the glasses) and waved it at a velociraptor. "I can't stop the whole lock, but this can definitely explain it to us."

With a small shudder, the raptor overbalanced from its frozen half-run and fell onto the ground. Shaking itself, it stood up and turned to face the Doctor with a questioning—it seemed, to Donna, to be questioning—roar.

"Hello," the Doctor waved. "What's your name?"

The raptor roared again, this time with a flutter of the eyes.

"That's _gorgeous_!" he turned to Donna. "It's gorgeous! Fantastic! I can't. . . hmm, I can't exactly translate it to English, but it's gorgeous. She's brilliant."

The raptor jiggled its tail.

"Oh, stop it," the Doctor laughed, and, to Donna, fiddling with his screwdriver, added, "I'll see if I can. . . there we go!"

"Grr-hrr-inga?" the raptor tilted its head. "Hrr-ng-rrr?"

"He just made it so we can understand each other," Donna explained. "What's your name again? Sorry, I didn't quite catch it the first time."

"Grr- _GaRi_ -ira," the raptor replied. "Nrr-prr-ta?"

"Donna," she replied.

"Vrro-vee-eera," Grr- _GaRi_ -ira replied.

"Thank you," Donna smiled.

"Grr- _GaRi_ -ira," the Doctor interrupted, "Would you mind telling us what happened? If you remember. You do remember, don't you?"

"Nrr-ki-ra. Feerd-ilrrs," she inclined her head. "Drr-drr-drr-pa! Er-dr-fr-tr."

"Thank you," the Doctor nodded.

He waved his screwdriver at Grr- _GaRi_ -ira again, and she froze once more.

"The Racnoss froze the planet, tried to dig into it," the Doctor breathed in understanding. "They couldn't."

"But. . ." Donna sighed. "She said no one seemed hurt. Why are they all. . . stuck?"

"The Emperor died," he shrugged. "No one to reverse the time lock. Dinosaurs stuck. But they're still gone in your time. They're still gone at this time."

"Where's the time lock?"

The Doctor looked around, but seemed to see nothing. He closed his eyes, then, and, still holding on to Donna, started walking. He did so with purpose, and, much to Donna's surprise, didn't stumble. When they reached a large mountain, possibly a volcano, the Doctor abruptly stopped, causing Donna to bump into him.

"There," he pointed, opening his eyes.

"The top of the volcano?" Donna raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"I'll call the TARDIS," he did so with the screwdriver, and the ship materialized. "We'll get the lock, get back here."

Donna nodded. She followed him—it seemed to be all she did, that day—up the mountain. Its sides were covered in ferns and sleeping dinosaurs, but the ground was smooth. Not so smooth that they slipped, but even enough for the walk to be simple. The top of the volcano was not high up, and the crater was just as inactive as the rest of the planet. On it lay a small metal sphere, covered in tell-tale Gallifreyan circles.

The Doctor picked it up—was able to pick it us because he was a Time Lord—and turned it over in his hands, which were _not shaking_ , not that Donna commented on their _absolute stillness_. When he traced the letters, she gently started guiding him down, he snapped out of his melancholy, and put a large grin onto his face.

The TARDIS was waiting for them when they returned, her doors open in a welcoming and soothing gesture. They reached the console, and, as Donna looked at the computer, the Doctor let his eyes linger on the lock's circles. When they faced each other again, he looked determined.

"Press this," he pointed, "Dinosaurs wake up."

"What about the timeline?" Donna wondered.

"No red flags," he sounded a bit puzzled, but accepting. "Think it'll work."

So he pressed.

Outside, the dinosaurs woke up. Inside, the Doctor and Donna felt the Earth begin to move again, and heard the life bloom. The TARDIS moved from where she was standing as the volcano exploded, and when they exited, they found themselves back near the lake they had rested at earlier.

Donna looked outside from under the Doctor's arm. The pterodactyls flew under the now clear sky, and Grr- _GaRi_ -ira walked past the ship with the rest of her friends, her hips swaying slightly more than necessary.

"Hrr!" she waved, and they returned the gesture.

"Why do we hear her language?" Donna asked. "Why doesn't the TARDIS translate it into English?"

"It's different with animal tongue," he replied off handedly.

A flash of light came from the sky, and its sudden appearance, made Donna grab for the Doctor's sleeve.

The pterodactyls swooped towards the ground, trying to escape the light. One of them, a small green one, wasn't fast enough and disappeared into it.

"What's happening?" Donna asked. "Doctor, what is it?"

The dinosaurs started falling, slowly, gracefully, onto the ground, asleep. As the Doctor turned Donna into the TARDIS, the Rift expanded, the landscape sinking into it even as the TARDIS dematerialized.


	55. Weeping Wedding

"Would you like another tissue?" Donna passed one along when the Doctor sniffled and nodded.

"Thank you," he took a deep breath and blew his nose, then put the tissue into his large pile.

"You're welcome," Donna replied, and passed him another.

He nodded his thanks, dabbing at his eyes. He should have put tissues into his pocket, he _knew_ he should have. But they had already been late, Donna had been dressed and waiting by the door. He had barely managed to get out the door wearing his coat before the TARDIS had sided with Donna and threw him out.

Still, he smiled when Donna shared another tissue, and blessed whoever he could that he had finally found a sympathetic soul.

Who knew that the Doctor cried rivers at weddings?


	56. Xanthous & Xenophobic

"Hello, there!" the Doctor greeted cheerfully when it was his and Donna's turn at the ticket box. "Two, please, adult."

"'Adult'," Donna scoffed quietly as the zoo employee entered their ticket numbers into her computer.

"Do I qualify as a senior?" the Doctor asked seriously, turning to her.

"As an 'Under Five', maybe," she replied, reading the ticket plaque.

"Rude," he murmured. ". . . right?"

"No," Donna shook her head. "It's not."

He shrugged in agreement just as the girl handed him the tickets, clipped together by a hair accessory, as was the custom of the zoo. They walked to the gate, where the entrance was covered by a spinning metal rod. When the Doctor handed over the tickets, they were let through.

The zoo was huge, one of the largest in the Game Galaxies, a cluster of small vacation destinations. But over the past few months, it had gotten less traffic than it was used to, and the Doctor had attributed it to the zoo changing hands of ownership. However, he wasn't sure, and the two of them had decided to go there both to observe the acquired animals and to find out.

They walked further into the zoo, but a green-clad employee stopped them just as they had walked under the second entrance arc. The Doctor looked closer at it, and identified it, to his immense dread, as a Gregorian—planet, not the Pope—Alien Identifier. An extremely hardcore guard against extraterrestrial intruders.

"Please proceed to the exit," the employee droned and pointed in that direction. "You will not be harmed."

"What's going on, Doctor?" Donna wondered quietly when they obeyed the command.

"Nothing bad, Donna, I promise," he replied. "I'll tell you when we leave."

The worker's yellow hand guided them all the way to where they had parked the TARDIS, and only returned back to his body when the ship faded away.


	57. Yolanda's Yelling

The TARDIS alarm clock beeped rapidly.

From where they were drinking tea in the kitchen, Donna and the Doctor ran to the console, where he, out of breath and still holding his half-full mug, rolled the computer screen towards him and squinted at it. Donna, wordlessly, from behind him, handed him his glasses.

"Thank you," he mumbled, proudly putting them on and still squinting at the screen.

"What is it?" Donna cried when the Doctor ran around her so fast she almost fell down. The TARDIS started moving. "Doctor, what is it?"

"I don't know!" he shouted back over the noise.

Almost immediately, however, the lights stopped flashing and the ship settled back to its quiet hum. Donna let go of the railing and walked closer to the Doctor, who was once again staring at the screen.

"Should we see?" she wondered.

"Yes," he decided, and led the way out.

What waited for them was a room with a round bed in its middle. A desk with a strangely-shaped chair stood next to it, and next to that was a cabinet and a hat stand.

"I think it's Vergon," he said, looking around. "I wonder where. . ."

"What?" Donna followed his gaze. "Oh. Who is it?"

"The resident Vergains," they walked closer to the figure, who was lying face-down in a corner of the room—a feat, definitely, since the room was round. "What's your name?"

"Go away!" the Vergains shouted. "Go away, go away, go away!"

"Not that happy to see us?" Donna inquired.

"Two of you?" the Vergains sobbed out loudly. "And here I thought I'd retained _some_ sanity!"

"We're real, just so you know," the Doctor replied and calmly knelt down. "What's your name?"

"Yolanda," the Vergains, who they could now see as female, answered. "And you are?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm Donna," she finished.

"Oh," Yolanda nodded. "Why'd you come here?"

"Heard you," the Doctor's eyes widened in realization. "Heard your screaming. Yolanda, what's wrong?"

The girl stood up and angrily matched past them, picking a thick book off the desk and throwing it at a wall, where it shattered into small pieced and immediately glued itself back together. he threw it again several times, and all those times, it just repaired itself.

"Yolanda?" Donna gently beckoned.

"I can't take it anymore!" Yolanda screamed. "I won't, I won't, I can't!'

Donna walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulders, letting Yolanda bury his face into her shirt, still mumbling, "I can't, I won't, why do you want to make me? I can't, I _can't_. . ."

The Doctor picked up the book, which wasn't even a bit tattered, and read off, " _The History of Vergon as Shown by Science_."

Donna made a face. "School."

"They just want to make us. . ." Yolanda moaned, and continued, more animated, "I'm expected to get up at the crack of dawn, have a large breakfast, go to loohcs on time, spend the next seven hours there, stay after for another two hours to get better in every class, join the loohcs shaveldisk team, go to a club, participate in an out-of-loohcs activity, go outside to play with friends, keep in touch with family, eat a large and healthy supper and dinner, do all my homework, and go to bed early enough to get eight hours of sleep, but, since I'm young, it's really ten hours. . ."

He mumbled some more into Donna's shirt as the Doctor patted him on the back. Then, as if something inside of him flipped around, Yolanda stood up and walked over to the book.

"What are you doing?" Donna asked, watching him closely.

"I'm good," Yolanda grinned. "Thank you."


	58. Zucchini Zefir

"What's this one?" Donna pointed at a large, purple parrot.

"It's a pastry," the Doctor broke off two feathers and handed one to her. "Very popular in 53rd century New Italy. Quite tasty, too."

Donna followed his example and bit off the end, sucking the clear custard inside of it into her mouth, then eating the crunchy, almost wafer-like, feather mold. She nodded and wiped her hands, "It is."

They walked further, past packed tables and colorful vendors, all advocating their own dessert, until they reached the TARDIS, standing inconspicuously near a wall. Donna and the bags of desserts they had gotten went inside first, and the Doctor, giving a final glance to the All-Planet Sweet Course Convention, followed.

Donna put the bags onto the couch in the living room, and sat next to them, waiting for the Doctor to take off his coat. When he, predictably dressed in Converse house slippers, emerged from his room, she had also changed into pajamas.

"What'd you get?" he asked, pointing at the five bags that she had filled.

Donna shrugged. "Don't really know. They looked good. And don't worry, they all said 'non-toxic to humans'."

"That's good," he nodded in approval upon examining the contents of the bags. "Oh, _nice_ taste!"

"One problem," she grinned sheepishly. "I don't really know what half of them are."

"No time like the present to find out!" he grinned and reached blindly into a bag.

"What is it?" Donna peered at the orange sphere he held out between them.

"I _think_ it's jell-o," he grinned and took another bite. "It is! New jell-o, shaped and improved!"

"It's . . . fruity," Donna grinned back. "I like it!"

"Do we have more of it?" he asked.

"I think so," Donna nodded. "But we also have . . . this . . . thing . . ."

She held aloft a cone of what looked like ice-cream. The Doctor tore off the tip and chewed it, "Cupcake."

"And this?"

"Dahlia."

"'Dahlia'?" Donna echoed. "That's a flower."

"They ground it up," he explained. "Add some . . . gelatiney thing. It's squishy, I think. I went to a Dahlia factory once, a few years ago. Smelled like pure sweet!"

"I'd imagine," she agreed. "And that one?"

"Hmm," he took the swirled dessert and closely examined it through squinted eyes. "I think it's zefir."

"Zefir?" Donna moved closer to the sweet. "Where's it from?"

"Russia," he handed half of it to her. "This one's from about the 24th century, but it exists in your time, too. Most popular flavors are vanilla and strawberry. This one's . . ."

"Zucchini," she finished, wiping her mouth on a napkin.


	59. Apples & Apricots

"Avocado," the Doctor said.

"Artichoke," Donna replied.

"Broccoli."

"Beans."

"What kind of beans?" the Doctor wondered, leaning forward.

"Any beans," she replied. "Beany ones."

"Alright, then," he smiled. "Carrots."

"Cabbage," she offered.

"D . . . d . . . uh . . ."

"Dill!" Donna cried, beating him to the punch. She frowned. "Does that count?"

"You interrupted me," he pouted. "Probably not. But the only other one I can think of is 'dandelion'."

"Eggplant, then," Donna continued. "We won't think of anything else."

"Endive," he grinned at her puzzled look. "It's a lettucey thing. Yellow on the top."

"Fig?" Donna ventured.

"Fennel," he corrected. "Fig's a fruit."

"Fine," she replied.

"Doesn't count," he said. "Not even edible."

"Garlic."

"Grape?"

Donna laughed. "Now who's cheating?"

"Horseradish," the Doctor continued.

"Huckleberry," Donna replied.

"That's a fruit," he protested.

"Is it sweet?"

He thought for a moment. "I don't know."

"Then it counts."

"Donna?" he asked, snapping out of a moment of silence.

"Yes?" she replied, abandoning her own thoughts.

"Are there any 'I' vegetables?"

"I don't think so."

"Should we move on to fruits?" he asked.

"Sure," Donna shrugged.

"Apples," the Doctor grabbed the most obvious choice.

Donna looked across the dinner table and pointed to a bag. "Apricots."

"Bananas," he countered readily.

"Berries."

"That's a whole different category!"

"No, Doctor, it counts . . ."


	60. Baking, Because

The Doctor leaned against the console, looking at a folded piece of paper. He'd found it buried in the couch cushions of the TARDIS family room. It looked familiar, the edges tinted pink and vaguely smelling of sea breeze hand lotion. He unfolded it and held it up to his face, then, giving up of squinting, put on his glasses. The word "Cookies", as a header of sorts, came into view first, in loopy, familiar handwriting.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. The ingredients followed, the standard mix of sugar, eggs, and flour. Under that, was another header, which read, "Ice-Cream". He grinned at the smiley face at the bottom of the paper as it blurred in and out of view.

* * *

Donna rolled off the couch in her room at a knock at the door. Quickly, she tied her bath robe and ran to open it. The Doctor, holding a tray, was standing at the threshold, a large smile on his face.

"What is . . ." Donna let him in and he put the tray onto the coffee table.

"Cookies," he gestured to one plate, piled high with soft cookies, which emitted a banana scent, and then to another, upon which were ice-cream sandwiches. Then, he held up a bowl, "And ice-cream."

Donna's eyes widened and she lifted her eyebrows. But, despite the surprise, she smiled back and took the cup of tea he offered. She didn't know why he'd come in and offered, like he did.

But she made room for him on the couch.


	61. Colorful Crayons

"No," Martha put the phone in between her ear and shoulder and looked at the Doctor and Donna, sitting on the floor before returning her attention to the conversation. "I don't think it's anything too bad. I don't think it's anything bad at all. Besides, the woman with the curly hair said it was only going to last for a day or two."

"Doctor, where are you going?" Donna asked then, trotting after him.

"I'm getting the crayons," he explained, sighing as if he had been horribly inconvenienced by the question.

"That sounded mean," Donna berated. "Martha, was that mean?"

"That _was_ slightly mean, Doctor," Martha agreed, and he looked at them. "Did you mean to?"

"No," he pouted, running over to Donna and grabbing her hand. "Donna, please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not," she grinned, and, hand in hand, they ran to the box of crayons.

"As you can hear," Martha sighed into the phone. "They're having the time of their lives. Why're you laughing?"

"Is that a sun?" she heard Donna ask.

"Jack, it's _not_ that funny," Martha scolded, and went over to Donna and the Doctor. "Doctor, what are you drawing?"

"It's me and my best friends," he grinned and proudly showed her the picture he had been working on.

"That's marvelous!" Martha smiled and looked at it, putting the phone onto the ground and on speaker. "Is that you in the middle?"

"Yes," he pointed. "And that's Rose, and that's Donna, and that's you, and that's Jack—"

"I'm on there, too?" Jack's awestruck voice erupted from the speaker. "Martha, you didn't say he was turned into an adorable child!"

"Donna's adorable, too!" the Doctor pitched in. "Jack, please don't interrupt me."

"You heard him," Martha chuckled as the Doctor kept pointing at people on his picture and explaining them all to Donna.

". . . and that's Sarah-Jane, and that's Grandpa Wilf, and that's Tutty-amon . . ."


	62. Churning Cheese

"And for the main course," the Doctor grinned at Donna, seated beside him, as the waiter arrived, "Bird, a soft, flying one, and as a side, a mixture of homegrown sprouts and pastry-like concoctions."

Donna raised an eyebrow, "So . . . chicken, salad, and spaghetti?"

"Yeah," the Doctor shrugged in response as the waiter, with an affronted look on his face, set down the mean for Donna to dig into.

"What are you having?" Donna asked after a while, when about five forkfuls of food were gone.

"And old Earth delicacy," he pointed to the menu and read off, "'A mix of dairy and fresh bread, served hot and blended. Easy to eat and hold!' Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"But that's not what you ordered," she frowned. "Is there another option?"

"Yup!" gleefully, he pointed to the word under the ones he had just announced. "'Also served as a special self-prepared food . . . only a half-price more expensive!'"

"Sounds like a rip-off!" Donna sing-songed.

"It's not a rip-off," he protested, and saw their waiter carrying a tray and a cauldron to their table. "See?"

Donna's eyebrow raised higher when the waiter showed an enthusiastic Doctor how to spin the dairy—it was cheese, it was _cheese_ , orange and ordinary—onto the fresh bread. The fresh bread that looked suspiciously like common store-bought loaves.

The Doctor spun the handle of the cauldron with a look of glee.

Donna took another bite of her food. "Definitely a rip-off."


	63. Dancing Doctor

"Please welcome, to the floor, Sir Doctor and Donna Noble," the announcer's next words, if there were any, were drowned out by the polite claps of the guests.

"D'you actually know how to do this?" Donna asked, placing her champagne flute onto a tall table.

"Of course I do," the Doctor replied with indignation.

"You taught them all, didn't you?" she grinned.

"Of course," he nodded and Donna's sarcasm flew over his head on a pair of neon albatross wings.

"Lead on, then," she placed her arm on his elbow and they walked to the center of the hall.

"And now," the Doctor asked, putting one hand on Donna's waist and, with his other hand, taking one of hers. The music flared, "The important question is, Donna . . . can _you_ waltz?"


	64. Everlasting England

"You took us to a cucumber farm," Donna raised an eyebrow and examined a leaf, turning it over in her hands.

"Technically, it wasn't me," he replied as their tour guide droned on about ideal growing conditions and how to properly care for mini-maxi-cucumbers. "The TARDIS took us here, I had nothing to do with it."

"You took us to a cucumber farm," she stood her ground and walked past an information plaque about New African Cucumbers.

"I did, didn't I?" he groaned when the guide walked up to them and steered them toward a greenhouse with the rest of the group.

"And here," the tour guide said with a flourish, pointing at a cucumber bush, "Is from where this farm was formed. Tired of all the angsting over the deaths of the cucumbers on the old plantations, the man who built this cucumber farm did it with a firm motto—'We Will Survive Without This Voracious Hunger, But With Bucketloads of Cucumbers, Fresh and Sweet!'"

"What's he trying to sell?" Donna whispered.

"Shares," the Doctor whispered back.

"He built this farm on his ancestors' thanage . . ."

"What's a thanage?" Donna wondered into the Doctor's ear.

"It's land belonging to a thane," he replied, absently looking at the brochure they had been given.

"What's a thane?"

"It's a Scottish landowner," he grinned. "I'm a thane, actually. Henry II gave me a thanage once. I did lose a game of cards to him . . . introduced poker a few years early . . ."

". . . and here is where the goslings graze," the guide swept an arm at a small field, where, just as he said, families of geese were running. "We raise them and then let them out into the world, allowing them to free their wings and spread the news of this farm upon their wings, like the thaumaturge that had built this farm had done . . ."

"What's a thaumaturge?" Donna asked again.

"Performer of magical feats," the Doctor replied. "Like Merlin, or David Copperfield, or me."

"Of course," Donna groaned as the group followed the guide. "And we can't leave, right?"

"Nope," the Doctor grinned. "We're here for a reason!"

"What reason?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "But the TARDIS brought us here, so let's go through with it."

"Okay," they kept following the group. Donna frowned. "You said a thanage is Scottish, right?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Have you noticed that we spend a lot of time in the UK?"

"Not really," he shrugged again, and looked like he was deep in thought. "A lot of places sound British, though."

"Weird," it was Donna's turn to shrug. "Oh, well. It's the universe. Who knows what's out there?"


	65. Forgotten Fantasies

"Are you _sure_ you're not coming with me?" Donna asked, just barely over the TARDIS threshold.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded. "Go. Be with your family."

"What about you?" she wondered as pity entered her eyes.

"What _about_ me?"

"What are you going to do?" she put her hands on his shoulders. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be here," he answered, gesturing to the TARDIS. "Me and the old girl, just spinning in the Time Vortex. We'll pick you up when you're done here."

"No one should be alone on Christmas," Donna protested. The TARDIS glowed. "Even if you and the TARDIS are together. You need someone."

" _Come on, Doctor!" Rose grinned, tongue sticking out from between her teeth. "We're going to be late!"_

" _We can't be late, we have a time machine!" he replied, running around the console, simultaneously pressing buttons, tying his tie, and buttoning his tuxedo._

" _Tell that to my mother, then," she laughed as the ship landed, running up to him and taking his hand. "Come on!"_

"I have you," Donna blushed at the words.

"Then come with me," she beckoned. "Mum won't mind. You know Granddad won't."

" _Rose, you know I'm not a family man," the Doctor twitched as she ran the doorbell._

" _Today you are, Doctor," Rose put her hand through his. "Today you are."_

"I . . ."

"Come on."

"I don't want to intrude," he looked doubtful.

"You won't!" Donna nodded decisively. "Come on, grab the presents. There's a spot for the TARDIS in the room, too!"

The Doctor stared after her retreating back, then squared his shoulders, smiled, and went to follow her instructions.

" _What do you want for Christmas?" Rose asked excitedly._

" _I don't know, something nice, I guess," he shrugged._

" _We all want something nice," she agreed. "But what about something specific?"_

" _I have all I need right here."_

_Rose's mad giggle turned into a shriek of laughter as he attempted to tickle her into the next year._


	66. Giant Gorillas

"And . . . ta-da!" the Doctor stepped back to show his work.

There was silence. From one of the tall trees, a bird squawked, then took off, the flapping of its wings reaching the group. Someone munched on a banana. Donna looked sideways at the Doctor, and he waved his hands excitedly.

"Ta-da!" he repeated hopefully.

Donna backed away from the group of gorillas and looked sideways at him. Still, there was no reaction.

"Is this how it's supposed to go?" she whispered, looking warily at their audience.

"No," he replied as the silver-backed male made his way to them. "But I know how we're supposed to go."

"How?" Donna followed his example of backing away.

"Quickly!"

"You know," the Doctor said when they'd gotten to the TARDIS and retained their breath, "I don't know why they got so mad. It was only a statue of a macaque!"


	67. Hate Hurts

The Doctor looked at the small envelope in his hand. He hadn't opened it yet, but the address was written in a familiar hand. Blue ink stood out on lavender paper, the left sides of letters curvy and too large for the space. All these years, the Doctor let out an empty chuckle, and he still had no idea how mail was delivered to the TARDIS.

He looked at the envelope again, and traced the words. There was no seal to close it, just glue which, like most Earth stationary, was activated by saliva. It was easy to open the letter.

It wasn't easy to read it.

_Where were you?_

_Why didn't you help?_

_When did you stop caring?_

_We believed in you. Now, we can't believe in anyone._

_We loved you._

_We trusted you._

_Why couldn't you come?_

The Doctor didn't know who wrote the letters. He didn't know when they were from. He didn't know what he had done— _will_ do—to deserve them.

But he had done— _will_ do, there was no difference, not in his life (he choked back a sob)—something.


	68. If I...

_Barcelona or New (^15) York?_ Donna thoughtfully hummed to herself. _Barcelona—"dogs with no noses, think about it!"—or New New York—"cat people, apple grass, no plagues or bliss, promise!"—_ that _was the question._

And a good question it was, too.

The Doctor had been promising that Barcelona trip for a while. The last time they'd tried to get there, they'd been waylaid by a distress signal. It had turned out to be a Sontaran battalion, one that turned hostile at the realization of who their saviors were. But, after spending an hour listening to how many different ways that they would be killed in, the Doctor had gotten 37 peace treaties out of the aliens.

_Hmm . . . so, Barcelona . . ._

**Pros:  
** **Dogs with no noses.  
** **The planet, not the city.  
** **Pretty great/good/ amazing cafes.  
** **They'd finally check it off the list.  
** **Cons:  
** **It was a journey with the Doctor—something was bound to go wrong, especially when they've been planning for so long.**

Donna erased her mental whiteboard. She wasn't sure, the thought then, when she'd began making lists like that. Oh, well . . . one list was never enough.

**New New York**

Donna felt especially important as she mapped it out in cursive—ahem.

**Pros:  
** **New York.  
** **(Correction –** _**New** _ **New York. Well, New^15 York, if she was being specific.)  
** **Cat people.  
** **She'd never been.  
** **Cons:  
** **Bliss.  
** **Plague.  
** **He'd obviously been there before, and from his brief account of that, it hadn't been a good visit. Or, now, the memory of it was unpleasant.**

"I've got an idea!" Donna was startled out of her mind by the Doctor's appearance in her field of vision.

"What?"

"Let's go to the moon!" he bounced on his heels. The TARDIS started moving.

"The moon?" Donna echoed.

"Oh, didn't I say?" the Doctor looked apologetic. "Not _Earth's_ moon!"

"Whose moon, then?" she wondered.

"I've no idea!" the TARDIS landed. "Isn't it wonderful?"


	69. Jeopardized Jellybean

The man—it was impossible to tell who he was, not from where they were standing—ran past, his long coat swishing behind him, dark curls bouncing on his forehead. The Doctor backed up into the wall, pulling Donna with him, so the man didn't see them. He didn't know why he'd done that, but now, as the man stopped in the middle of the street, he suddenly got the feeling that he did the right thing.

The man slowly turned around, first his head, then his body. His collar was open, and he wasn't wearing a scarf, despite the wind. Donna wasn't sure why the wind was so heavy in the middle of a city, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was night. Weird things always happened at night.

Right before his eyes would have reached where the Doctor and Donna were hiding, the man spun the other way, the streetlights catching his eyes and making them even more alert. Donna pressed closer to the Doctor.

The man walked into a building.

"Where's he going?" Donna whispered. "Doctor?" she gulped at the dawning look of horror on his face. "Doctor, where's he going?"

"He's going inside."

"Yes, I got that part," she peeled herself from the wall and caught up to him. "Where? Inside _where_?"

"The Bentley House," he picked up his pace and began talking quickly, but quietly. "Built in central New York in the mid-1800's, always added on to and updated with the times, passed down from generation to generation of Bentleys . . . until a few years ago, in linear time, at least," he took a deep breath, "Now owned and managed by a Miss Carrie Fisher, who came into ownership at a bankruptcy auction."

"What's so special about it, though?"

"What's special about it"—he knelt down and picked the lock of one of the windows, Donna cautiously looking around— "is that it is home to the biggest jellybean of all time."

Donna paused halfway through the window. "Excuse me?"

"It's 2289," he replied in a dramatic half-whisper, "the sweets industry is overrun by cakes and chocolate. And everyone's forgotten about one thing—jellybeans!"

"Jellybeans?" Donna's eyebrows threatened to rise off her head and fly away into the cosmos.

"Not as good—or helpful—as jelly babies, I admit," here, the Doctor opened a wooded door into what turned out to be a cabinet. "But they're on the verge of extinction."

"And this pertains to our mysterious curly-haired man . . . how?"

"With a grave import," the Doctor stuck out a hand to hold Donna back when she tried to enter the room. "Look."

She did. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then, her gaze fell onto a large display, a jellybean of multiple colors, in a glass box. She turned to the Doctor, but he wasn't looking at her. She followed his pointing finger, and just barely fought back a gasp. The man, his back toward them, had approached the case, and was taking off the glass covering.

"Shouldn't we stop him?" she whispered, the Doctor nearly not hearing her.

The room erupted into flames, just as the Doctor whispered, "Yes."

With one arm, he threw her from the doorway, and before she had time to react, raced into the room. Sidestepping the flames and barely managing to catch on fire, he returned just as she was sitting up, slightly dazed.

"Doctor?" she rubbed her behind, standing up.

"Yup," he nodded. "You alright?"

"Yeah," her eyes widened as they fell upon the large—impossibly, overly, gigantically large—jellybean in his hands. "You knew that would happen?"

"Nope," he bounced on his heels as he waited for her to brush her hair out of her face. "Well . . . not really. I just knew that something was going to happen tonight, and when we saw Mr. . . . oh, he got away, didn't he? Oh, well. Anyway, when we saw him enter, I knew that I was right in my assumptions."

"What are we going to do now?"

The door, just barely behind the Doctor's back, started smoking, and from inside the room, they heard a loud crash. When the door fell open, the man, his look crazed but otherwise unharmed, emerged and growled at them. The Doctor took Donna's hand.

"Run!"


	70. Klutzy Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prequel to Chapter 61

They were stuck in a cell. Really, Martha groaned, this wasn't the reason she returned. Of course, she had missed the action, as well as the Doctor himself, but sitting in cells was never as fun or exciting as it sounded. She rolled her eyes. The Doctor was kneeling next to the door, digging around in a small cabinet. From the looks of it, it housed a few wires, and Martha could connect the dots to see that it was the security system.

"Are you sure that's the right wire?" she asked, leaning over the Doctor's shoulder. She was hovering, she knew, but if it _was_ the incorrect wire, her hovering would be the least of their problems.

"Yes, of course," the Doctor nodded, pointing at a wire, striped in purple and lime green.

"What's going to happen when you sonic it?"

Martha noticed the incredibly large group of wires in the cabinet. They weren't identical, not at all, but there were _so many_. How on Earth—or Opricon VII, as the case was—could he know which one was the right one? For all they knew, they'd get turned into frogs when he soniced it.

"Doctor!"

That was Donna, Martha recognized her voice. She was shouting, but in more of a whisper than a yell. As far as Martha knew, she had been locked in a different cell. But she'd give it to Donna, the redhead was resourceful. She might have even gotten out of the cell by herself.

"Donna?" the Doctor's face lit up when he looked up from the cabinet, and he pushed his glasses up onto the top of his head. Martha noticed his squinting when he turned back to the cabinet.

"Yes," Donna replied quickly. "Doctor, don't do that."

"Do what?" he frowned.

"Cut the wires," Donna sat down on the other side of the cell bars, right in front of him. "This isn't where the cell opens, I heard them talking. That's how I was able to get out."

"You heard where the actual exit shortcut is?" Martha chimed in, leaning over the Doctor's shoulder again.

"Yes," Donna nodded, and pointed to the other wall of the cell. "It's there. See the little bump next to the floor. It's a button. You just press it the same number of times as there are horizontal bars on the door."

"That's specific," Martha laughed. Only with the Doctor would there be such a solution. Oh, she had definitely missed this!

"Let's do it!" the Doctor put his glasses back on, and Martha backed up to the small bed—there was no being too careful. "I'm just going to close this."

He pointed his sonic at the wires. Martha had a small thought that it was a bad idea—didn't Donna just tell them not to touch the wires? Was the screwdriver still on the 'cut' setting?—but, the Doctor knew best, after all.

"No, Doctor, don't!" she suddenly heard Donna say.

Martha had to shield her eyes from a bright light that covered both of her companions.

"It turns intruders into children," a small redhead finished with a frown, standing in the place where Donna had been.

Martha gaped as the now-five-year-old Doctor tripped over his too-large coat.


	71. Lemon Lozenges

It was easy to see that the Doctor was distracted. He'd been doing that for the past thirty minutes—the shifty looking around, the tiny snapping of his fingers, the bouncing of his feet. They were small signs, Donna wasn't even sure why she noticed them. No, that wasn't true. She didn't notice them, not at first, but then the Doctor had stumbled over his words.

"And . . . and here," he was doing it again, she saw, and the hand he was indicating the tower with was shaking, "Here, you can see that the windows—the windows are mid-19th Century . . . Lorathian . . ."

"Are you alright?" she asked then, because he hadn't been shaking this badly before, he hadn't looked so exhausted or so pale.

"Me?" the Doctor looked around, as if lost. "I'm fine. I'm . . . fine—fine, I'm always fine."

"Are you sure?" she stepped closer to him and saw a few beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead, right below his hairline. "Are you _sure_?"

"Mm," he nodded, but grimaced and seemed to think better of it, just saying, "Yeah."

"Well, _I'm_ not."

The TARDIS, when they got back, greeted them with an opened first aid kit, complete with ten different types of thermometers. As she stuck it into the Doctor's ear, Donna realized how thankful she was about his near-human physiology. It was so near-human, in fact, that most doctoring procedures, especially those that had to do with simple viral infections, could be treated the same way as on a human.

When the thermometer beeped, the Doctor helped her read the temperature. It was higher than his usual temperature, but nothing to worry about, according to him. Donna supposed that if he had been lying, the TARDIS would have told her.

He ended up taking a couple of aspirin—and Donna _knew_ that he hadn't been "fine"—which almost immediately returned the color to his face. He said that it was just a small cold (the Lorathian version of it, anyway), easy to catch and even easier to get rid of. Donna was happy for that. She had no idea what she would have done had the Doctor become too ill.

Donna made them hot cocoa. The Doctor drank his almost immediately, and asked for another with a guilty look on his face. As she turned her back to obey the request, Donna noticed him rubbing at his throat, doing his best to hide the action. She rolled her eyes.

"What?" he wondered when she stopped mixing the cocoa.

"I saw what you did there," Donna resumed making the drinks, then put them on the table between them, and sat down. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" he drank half of the cup (he hoped that the shifting of his eyes didn't betray him).

"Knowing that you can't lie to me," Donna smiled. "No. I mean your throat."

"Oh," he looked down and would have blushed, had he been human. "Um . . . yes. Sorry."

"I grabbed these from the first aid kit before I put it away," Donna took out a few wrapped candies from one of the pockets in her dressing gown, and handed them to him. "They're supposed to work, I think."

The Doctor's face lit up when he saw them, and he instantly unwrapped one of the small, yellow candies. He grinned, "These are my favorite!"

The TARDIS chimed her disapproval when he smiled and popped it into his mouth. Donna smiled and took a satisfied sip of her cocoa. She knew she'd never be able to get the lozenges away from him, but they had no ill effect, not unless soothing tired muscles with lemon oils counted as an ill effect.


	72. Monkey Magic

"I thought you said magic wasn't real!" Donna panted, running at the Doctor's side behind a large cardboard box. This wasn't supposed to happen, he hadn't even offended them!

"It's not," he replied, also out of breath, pressing his back against the box. He seemed confident in its protective power, so Donna followed the example.

"Then what do you call _that_?" a flurry of lights exploded over their heads, and Donna ducked instinctively, but they disappeared before they could hit the ground.

"Fireworks," the Doctor ground out and sighed, descending into a mutter, "Humans, honestly, show them _one_ thing they don't understand, and they start crying, 'Magic, magic!' There _is_ no magic . . . apes . . ."

"Yes, yes, yes," Donna interrupted. "Humans are apes. But what about the _actual_ apes?"

The Doctor stuck his head out from behind the box, only to receive a flying banana to the face. "I think they prefer to be called monkeys."


	73. Nautical Normality

Donna rolled her eyes and sipped from her pink, umbrellaed drink. Next to her, the Doctor enjoyed a similar concoction, and if she looked around, she would see the rest of the passengers doing much the same. She felt at peace, though it would have been more fitting to say that her surroundings felt at peace. _Idle_ , yes, that would have been Donna's word of choice to describe herself in the current situation. Idle, boring, dilly-dallying, useless . . . at a certain time—she wasn't sure of when, and didn't know if she would ever _become_ sure, because her idea of time was different now—Donna, her body, and her brain had decided that peace, and calm, and quiet were not unnecessary, but more quaint.

And now, as the TARDIS safely stood in the large suite that the Interstellar Cruise Company Corporation Organization had given them, Donna wasn't sure what had happened to the version of herself who had wanted a nice, safe, peaceful, predictable, _normal_ vacation above all else. They'd saved a planet—maybe two, or four, but really, who was counting?—from some terrorists from the edge of the galaxy, and in doing so, had saved the ICCCO's daughters, which resulted in a free cruise.

It was nice, as far as cruises went. Who was she kidding? It was amazing! And, to top off the world-class buffet, rooms, and company, the entire thing was free. She grinned at the Doctor, who was still saying something to the man next to him, buzzing on about the life-forms in the ocean and how the ICCCO's ships never disturbed the environment they voyaged through.

It was a good idea, though, Donna thought, one that Earth cruise companies would benefit from. Still, she couldn't have everything. So, as a narwhal flipped up from the waves—"You didn't tell me they were real, Doctor! Does that mean unicorns are real, too, they're similar animals, right?"—Donna took another sip from her fluorescent drink and sat back in the woven beach chair.

Normality and calm were overrated, Donna decided. Free cruises weren't.


	74. Oblivious Ostriches

The sun blazed above their heads when Donna and the Doctor exited the TARDIS. The sand under their feet was hot, and already covered part of the ship, as it continued "whorp"-ing. To her left, Donna heard a similar sound, and twirled around, the Doctor doing the same.

As soon as she did, she took a step back. She bumped into the Doctor, who caught her around the shoulders, and got back to her feet with almost no sand in her shoes. The look of surprise on the Doctor's face, present just a few seconds ago, was now gone.

But Donna was still standing with her eyes wide, staring at the bird in front of them. It was taller than the Doctor, much taller, and its grey neck was expanding and contracting.

"Uh . . ." Donna gave the Doctor a sideways look, still listening to the bird's moaning.

"Ostrich," he whispered, as it turned around and stuck its head into the sand as if they weren't there.

Donna nodded slowly and followed the Doctor around the other birds, to continue with their sight-seeing. And, honestly, being ignored by a flock of ostriches with their heads in the sand was weirder than green, three-legged horses.


	75. Potay-to, Potah-to

One second, the Doctor had been walking, talking with Donna as they were eating chips, and the next she'd been gone. Of course, there'd been a flash of light in between the seconds, because people didn't disappear into thin air, but even that small courtesy wasn't enough. Donna was gone (and so were his chips, but Donna was more important).

The Doctor looked around. The biggest chippy this side of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud was just as busy as it had been. Everything seemed normal—and that was the last time he said those words.

"Excuse me!" the Doctor waved to a man and started running over to him. In spite of the loud greeting, the man walked to him, and they met halfway. "Hello."

"Hello," the man answered quickly. He had a kind, open face, and didn't look at all intimidated by the Doctor's large personality.

The Doctor expectantly looked at the man, but the man wasn't looking at him. He was looking around, searching, and doing it discreetly out of politeness for the man who had called him over. The Doctor waited, and still the man did not say anything, and he frowned—he usually got more of a reaction than that!

"What's your name?" he asked. The man stared. "I'm the Doctor, Oncoming Storm and all that. There's Donna, too, but she's gone. What are you searching for?"

"I'm Kim," the man replied to the Doctor's questioning squint, still only slightly fazed. "I'm searching for my daughter, Violet. She was here, and now she's just . . ."

"Gone," the Doctor finished. "Vanished, disappeared into thin air."

Kim nodded. Under his courteous smile and casual speech, the Doctor saw the beginning of turmoil, of _bring back my daughter or I swear_ . . . But they weren't at that point yet, and would never get to that point if he had his way.

The Doctor twirled around and rubbed his hands together. He began walking, not waiting for Kim, who he knew was going to follow.

"We were just walking along," he rambled. "And she said how good the chips were, and I waited just a second because I was swallowing—you never talk with your mouth full, Kim, it's just not polite—and then there was a light, and she was gone."

"Violet was telling me how she wanted to bring the family here," Kim stood back when they neared the police box, but it was so inviting, and the Doctor didn't stop walking or tell him to go away, and he was still talking to the man so it would make sense for him to follow, even if it would be a bit cramped.

Or not.

"It's bigger on the inside," Kim whispered.

"And it can track Donna's biological signature!"

Somewhere, a cat meowed. Kim wanted to be more surprised, but this man would either get his daughter back, or he was the reason she was gone.

The Doctor popped up in front of him. "Tea?"

* * *

The kettle hadn't even finished boiling when the Doctor snatched Kim up by the hand and pulled him to the computer, which was now showing a map of the park. The Doctor pointed to a green dot. "That's her."

Kim stared at the dot. He didn't know how the Doctor knew, but he knew. Kim knew that Violet wasn't there, knew it because how could she be? The Doctor, in the meantime, was angrily squinting at the computer and pressing various buttons. About a minute later, Kim didn't know how or why, they moved.

"Follow, if you want to," the Doctor said, his voice low, before running out. By the time Kim joined him, the Doctor's face was clear, but he was looking around with obvious puzzlement, the squint back on his face. Kim wondered if he should offer the Doctor a pair of eyeglasses.

He shrugged and turned away when the Doctor looked at him questioningly. There were no humans in sight, probably not for miles, but the computer had said that this Donna person was here. Kim was glad he wasn't the Doctor's enemy. He swallowed audibly, partly from fear and partly because he never got to drink down the saltiness of the disappeared chips.

He took a step backward, to the comfort of the miraculous blue ship, before tripping over something. He yelped as he dropped to the ground.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked, bending down to join him.

"Yes, I—"

Oh. The Doctor wasn't talking to him, Kim realized as he picked himself up and began to walk away. The man was mad, there was no way he knew where Violet was, no way he could get to her. There was no way he knew that Violet's disappearance wasn't a publicity stunt. And yet . . .

". . . are you okay?" the Doctor was saying again to something in his hands. A potato, Kim saw if he looked closer.

Yes, definitely mad.

And then both he and the potato were being dragged back onto the ship, and it was moving again, just a bit more violently than the previous time.

"Wha—"

"They're in here!" the Doctor waved the potato, then glanced at it. "Sorry."

"They're in there?" Kim ran the information over in his head. His daughter and this man's wife—sister, mother, girlfriend, daughter?—were inside a potato?

"You couldn't hear them when you trod on them?" the Doctor led the way outside again, clutching the potato like their lives depended on it. He frowned. "Humans. I'll never understand how you live like this. Almost completely deaf."

He was ether insane or brilliant, and the large army of green dwarves waiting for them when they entered the clearing at the center of the park indicated the latter. People, suddenly without their chips just like he and the Doctor had been, were looking angrily at the army, and at the large pile of potatoes behind them.

"Um?" Kim eloquently questioned into the Doctor's ear.

"Bubbas," he replied with a sigh. "Farm aliens, make their money by selling potatoes, a native crop, to the Chip Shop Corporation."

"What about the weapons?"

"Wannabe warriors," the Doctor glared and turned his attention to the aliens. "Leave."

The tallest Bubba, the one with the most armor, stepped forward. He clicked angrily at the Doctor, moving what seemed to be his nose.

"Now that's just rude," the Doctor commented at a vicious twitch-wiggle-twist. "There's no need to get like that. Just give back our people, and go home."

More clicks.

"No," the Doctor shook his head to emphasize the point. "You're the childish ones. The Corporation is what's keeping your planet alive. You've got nothing _but_ potatoes, it's not theft. Besides, you're just a fringe group, don't act like you're here on behalf of your people. I know your people, and you're _not_. Now I repeat—and I do this only once, because you've taken something very dear to me—go home and give us our people back."

There was a pause, then some more clicks, these ones ferocious and high-pitched. After a second, a flash just like when Violet had disappeared, everything was back to normal. The Doctor, from beneath a bushy mane of red, grinned.

"Where were we?"


	76. Quacking Queen

"No," Donna tried to protest when the queen's guards began to lead her away. "No, you've got this all wrong!"

They didn't understand, that was the problem. They didn't understand her, and neither did their queen, and she was being dragged into the dungeon because of a huge misunderstanding. A language barrier and pure pigheadedness.

The queen motioned to the guards once more, and quacked angrily. She wasn't actually quacking, Donna knew, but the noise was similar, and the guards doubled their effort.

As the door to the throne room closed behind her, Donna saw the queen leer at the Doctor and begin to advance at him. He was trying to say something, but the queen was having none of it. When the door finally shut and the guards started marching, Donna allowed herself a moment to admire the hilarity of the situation.

Because the queen had not been rude or hostile. But she'd clearly misunderstood Donna's use of the word "mate" to describe her relationship with the Doctor. No, the queen had fallen victim to jealousy. Really, it would have been funny if she wasn't being manhandled, but Donna wasn't picky.

The Doctor would save her soon enough, and the tale of his scape would be absolutely priceless.


	77. Reality's Red

_She sat outside on the porch, relaxing. The sky is perfectly clear and the air is almost humid, but it's just normal March weather. Donna stretches her toes into the sunlight, clocking her face with her hand even though she's in the shade._

_She tries to follow the chatter of the neighbors—they have so many guests, it's a wonder none of them are talking to her—but it's too far away and uninteresting for her to put any real effort into the eavesdropping._

_Donna's mother and grandfather are inside, she can see them pattering away in the kitchen. She stretches her toes again, this time noticing an orange goo, like wet chalk or shredded carrots, on the stepping stones in front of her. Donna knows she needs to get up and wash it away, because it'll be easy the water from the hose will just dissolve it._

_It's been a few minutes, now, of her just sitting and contemplating. But the dirt won't disappear by itself, and she's getting up to fetch the hose, which is rolled up on the grass. It's easy to unwind, and even easier to turn on. Light mist flares sideways from it, missing Donna completely._

_Then she looks away, because someone is calling her name. It's James (or John or Will) from primary school or daycare, she can't remember which. He looks the same now as he did them, which she should know because he's right next door._

_He's gesturing quickly towards something in the distance. The sky, Donna sees. It's folding itself in half horizontally, the earth underneath crease faintly smoking._

_And there's a part of it, smaller than the first, that's folding itself right in front of them, getting bigger and closer._

_Donna drops the hose and, chest tight, runs to the front door until her mother is only a few feet in front of her._

" _It just came down."_

_Her mother's puzzled, Donna knows, and her grandfather's nowhere to be seen. She walks to one of the large windows, and the sky's still folding, almost directly in front of her._

_She doesn't know what to do, and there's a blue square dancing in front of her, which makes her feel safe, but she knows it's all—_

_Why are red crayons red?_

Waking up, Donna grappled at the random lifeline, and for a minute, all she knew was the question and the Doctor's incessant pounding on her bedroom door, and as he opened it, she could finally breathe.


	78. Simulated Serenity

The Doctor grinned as he watched the sun rise through the kitchen window. He wasn't a naturally early riser, but today was a special day. Putting away the last of the pans, he looked around the now-spotless room, eyes settling on the tray he had prepared. It was pink, Rose's favorite color even after all these years, and the plates on it were stacked high with pancakes and fresh fruit.

Rose had been adamant that he not go out of bounds with extravagance, but it was their ten year anniversary. He had made no promises, just for that reason, and she was going to love it.

It had been months since they last travelled, and it would be months until they would again, but the child currently occupying Rose's belly was worth it.

The Doctor rubbed his hands together and picked up the tray, and since Rose was an early riser, had no fears of waking her up. True to his prediction, Rose was already stirring, and by the time he set the tray down, her eyes were semi-focused and she was brushing her hair out of her face.

"Good morning!" the Doctor chirruped, sitting down next to her and getting started on a banana, while she covered her entire plate with chocolate sauce.

"You shouldn't have," Rose smiled but continued eating.

He shouldn't have had, but he did. "I wanted to."

They finished breakfast quickly, but both were full and satisfied, even, as Rose reported after receiving an enthusiastic kick, their little Time Baby.

The Doctor left Rose to a bath and took the tray and plates downstairs, before washing himself as well. They had a long ride ahead of them, not only figuratively but literally as well, since the restaurant he wanted to take Rose to was far away. And, as annoying as it was, driving a car was very unlike driving a TARDIS (he'd failed both exams, but no one needed to know).

By the time they got to the restaurant, it was evening. Rose looked magnificent in a floor-length purple gown, and he had even worn dress shoes for the occasion.

A red-haired woman escorted them to their table and took their orders, leaving them with a bread basket and non-alcoholic drinks.

Rose took the Doctor's hand from across the table and beamed. She started talking, but after a few seconds, he could only see her lips moving. He was smitten. All those years ago, Jackie had been right. And, thinking of her blessing, given on that very night, the Doctor ran his fingers over the velvet box in his pocket.

". . . thank you."

The Doctor nodded when Rose finished taking, just as the redhead brought their food. They started eating, the box still in his pocket and probably burning a hole through it. It wouldn't _stay_ in his pocket, of course, but for the first time in a long time, the Doctor wished he had some liquid courage.

Excusing himself from the table, the Doctor walked over to the redhead, and asked where the men's room was. She grinned and gestured for him to follow. After a few steps, she started talking.

"My own's name's Lance, you know. We met when I was temping at his company, and he gave me a cup of coffee. Proposed at the water cooler six months later, my Lance did," the Doctor's eyes widened and she began laughing. "I can see it in your pocket, you dunce! So can she, you know, and if she hadn't run yet, you're bound to succeed."

"What about your Lance, then?" the Doctor felt his mouth go dry, and he motioned for the woman to keep talking.

"My Lance? Oh, he's great. We had the craziest ceremony—I was glowing!" she stopped and grabbed the Doctor's upper shoulders, smile falling off her face to reveal seriousness. "Then he cheated on me with a giant spider and died, but for god's sake _wake up_ , Doctor, because that never happened here, even though it did!"

"You're insane."

The Doctor tore away from her grasp and marched back to his table, where Rose was waiting, ignoring his previous need to compose himself. Behind him, the woman called out a broken, "Please!"

The Doctor turned around, and needed to take a step back, because she was right in front of him, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Donna?"

Back at his table, Rose—notRose, notRose, notRose, because she was always just a bit too agreeable to be his Rose, and why was he only realizing this now?—took a step to him, before freezing. If he looked around, the Doctor could see that everyone, except him and Donna, had stopped.

And then it was just the two of them in a small, white room, him falling to the ground and Donna whispering that he was okay, and that it had only been a Bliss-induced hallucination, and that she was so, so sorry.


	79. Shellfish Sham

The back of the final oyster was finally to them, its 'hands' cuffed. The Doctor exchanged some final words with the lead Detective before triumphantly presenting his wallet to Donna, complete with currency and psychic paper.

The scam ring set up by one of the biggest sea-owners on the all-water planet hadn't been operating long, but many had been cheated out of home and hard-earned money.

The Doctor's interference, by cheer blind luck, had stopped the crabs and oysters that had been running the operation—and Donna was never eating shellfish again, thank you very much—right in their tracks.

And yet, Donna worried most about the fact that seeing fish in three-piece suits no longer surprised her. It was time to visit Earth.


	80. Terrified Tyrannasaurus

The Doctor looked through the bars with open disgust. His lips curved into a sneer when his eyes landed on a group of people in a gold spectators' box. At his elbow, Donna wondered if he was telepathic or empathic. Beneath his angry surface she could see pain, but he knew how to channel his emotions.

"Do you know what they're doing?" he asked coldly, rhetorically. "They're not even justifying it, Donna, it's just sport. It might as well be mechanical, for all they care."

The people laughed and cheered when the dinosaur, a giant tyrannosaurus, roared, throwing its head back and baring its teeth. Those that were in the basket on its back screamed, but the dinosaur was silenced with several shocks to its exposed neck. There were already burns on it, and this time the dinosaur screamed in pain.

"They _don't_ care, though, Donna," the Doctor walked away from the bars and aimed his Sonic Screwdriver at the gate. "Humans. Grown so confident that you play with a displaced beast, and where is your humanity and conscience and compassion now?"

He had walked into the arena, and though the heavily armed guards advanced, the dinosaur stood its ground, even where it was spurred to attack.

"Lead it to the TARDIS," the Doctor Soniced the basket off the T-rex's back and cleared the way for it and Donna. "The doors'll expand. I'll be along shortly, I just need to talk to our hosts, but the TARDIS can show you where to take it. And now _you_ . . ."

Donna was almost out of earshot when he said it, but she never heard the end of the speech. She only hoped that the people _had_.


	81. Thespian Theft

"Ooh, Shakespeare!" the Doctor pointed to a sign and bounced over to it.

Donna read the bold lettering announcing the current season of _Julius Caesar_. It was in English, translated by the TARDIS, but if she squinted, she could see the triangles that the sign was actually written with. She'd learned to do it a few weeks ago, and even if she wasn't particularly good at it, it was pretty cool.

Before Donna could finish gawking, the Doctor dragged her off to more signs. There was a bright playbill for _Cabaret_ , a vintage-looking one for _The Importance of Being Earnest_ , and an ornamented one for the reading of _A Christmas Carol_ , as well as many others.

"They take their theater seriously here, then," Donna chuckled as a group of tourists, dressed for the evening's performance of _Carmen_ , passed them at almost a run.

"Course they do," the Doctor nodded, still reading the signs. "57th century Italy—they do nothing else! This one time I was here with—oh, what are _you_?"

He started squinting at the wall and Donna passed him his glasses. She looked over his shoulder, "What is it?"

"What does it say here?"

Donna glanced at him strangely but leaned into the wall as well, narrowing her eyes to read the fine print. She shrugged. "Says 'Simon Simmond'."

"And the title?"

Donna obediently read, "'The Devil's Disciple'."

"He didn't write that," the Doctor pointed to another sign. "This one either. Donna, what's it—"

"'Pygmalion'."

"Exactly!" flicking his glasses off, the Doctor put them into his pocket with a practiced move. He took Donna's hand. "You've never met Bernard, have you? No? Well, remind me to take you sometime. But now? Now we give him credit for what is his."


	82. Useless Uvula

There was a mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen, with a little table under it. The Doctor liked putting various gadgets and vegetation there, but Donna had started monitoring his table use after he'd accidentally released a hoard of adult alligators onto it and they'd gotten lost in the TARDIS. It was at this table, however much in secret, that the Doctor checked his hair every few Gallifreyan hours.

He was usually there when Donna went down to breakfast—eight in the morning in Earth hours—which she called Point 0 Gallifreyan. He'd stop when she went into the kitchen itself and follow her, but today, Donna entered it alone. With a frown, she turned back, but the Doctor was still at the mirror.

"Doctor?" she ventured.

"Ohnna!" he exclaimed. "Ouh're ha 'uhan! Whah's a huhula hor?"

"Um . . . if you enunciate?"

"Right," the Doctor closed his mouth and face her. "What's a uvula for?"

"A uvula?" she echoed.

"Yup, you know the little skin flap that hangs at the back of your throat," he mined hanging with his hand before opening his mouth and pointing to said uvula. "Never hand one before. Tried poking it, but"—Donna winced—"yeah."

"It triggers your gag reflex. You use it to speak French, too, but that's all I know," the Doctor looked mildly disappointed, so she offered, "It's part of you, innit? A keg in the machine, if you will. It makes you whole, and without it you'd be different and wrong."

He beamed.

"Now, come on, there's food to be had. And wash your hands, you were poking around in there for who knows how long."

Touched, the Doctor entered the kitchen after her, saying, "You're like a uvula, Donna, you know. _My_ uvula. Keep me going, you do."


	83. Victory Videos

Donna hadn't been to an arcade before the Doctor had taken her to one of the smallest planets in the Vegas Galaxies. He'd been surprised by the proclamation, and mumbled something about humans and their primitive time-spending habits. He'd obviously had the same sheltered upbringing she had, since it was only his fifth time going.

The arcade was very large and crowded with various aliens, but not unlike the ones shown in movies. There was a bowling alley against the back wall, the Doctor said, but to took three days to walk there. There were even small cafes, restaurants, and hotels along the way, though one wasn't required to make use of them. Despite the crowd, it was easy to get around, since there were clear walkways and even traffic lights to monitor the especially tricky areas.

After about a day, a fourth of the way into the arcade, Donna proved herself to be the champion of an old Earth game, marketed as the most challenging in the Galaxies. But it was simply Minesweeper, and Donna wasn't the least bit surprised that it had survived all those centuries.

Her face, smiling and plastered across the entire arcade, boasted her triumph, and got them several free hotel chain passes.

There were cat people at the games, playing with water guns, and several Adipose trying their hands at the lottery. A loud-mouthed main in a red jacket was selling hypervodka in a corner for about an hour before being kicked out, and was replaced by a woman, one Oswald Oswald, who tied a rope from wall to wall and was crossing the arcade upon it. Two harried-looking replties chased smaller beings of their species, their yells translated by the TARDIS into, "No, it's bedtime, now!"

The TARDIS was waiting for them at the bowling alley, shining with pride when the Doctor brought in the gold trophy. Donna called him vein when he started, but nevertheless joined him in watching the TARDIS-made home videos of their respective victories.


	84. Wonderful World

Donna fiddled with the cocktail glass in her hand. She hadn't taken an actual sip yet, even after an hour. Neither had the Doctor, she noticed, but then again, she'd hardly ever seen him drink. She'd been told once that humans needed to stay hydrated for time travel, but surely Time Lords had different physiology.

Either way, they were the only two not drinking, but they fit in quite well. Donna in a bottle green gown, on the Doctor's elbow. They'd only been mistaken for a couple twice.

A deep voice broke her out of her thoughts, announcing that the next song was by request from a new patron.

The opening chords were easily recognizable to Donna, who found herself focusing not on them, but on the singer's crooning.

She'd never particularly enjoyed Louis Armstrong, had always been easily irritated by the intelligible rumble of his voice. But the recordings didn't do him justice. Recordings never did anyone justice, she supposed, which was really a pity. She'd always missed the raw passion of the song, how the very room would shake when the voice changed. She'd missed the reality of the words, focusing instead on trying to decipher them. But if she just listened, they fell into place.

The planets and the sun, the millions of alien species she'd met and had yet to meet, the hoy of a white Christmas, and hugging family goodnight.

Listening, Donna felt the urge to nod, even though she knew of the tension brewing just outside the club's doors and even if the Doctor was staring off into the distance, mentally away from everything, because the song wasn't about the voice or the words. It was about the feeling.

". . . and I said to myself: 'What a wonderful world'."


	85. Xenodochial Xantusiidae

"It's so . . . dark," Donna looked around. "And empty."

"It's a desert," the Doctor shrugged. "And it's night."

Donna rolled her eyes at him. The Doctor was a master at pointing out the obvious, and even the tiny lizards gathered around his feet seemed to agree. Well, she didn't know if they agreed, but they were giving him almost exasperated looks.

"Oh, hello!" he had noticed the lizards, as well. "How are you?"

Donna looked down as the Doctor crouched, arms stretched out but relaxed. Almost immediately, some of the lizards climbed on.

"No," he shook his head, laughing, in reply to one of them, "She's just my mate."

Donna knelt and nodded. Even lizards thought they were together! They were exceptionally friendly lizards, but still.

The lizards chirped at the Doctor some more. He replied with, "Really?" and "Congratulations," and "Thank you, you're very xenodochial xantusiidae!"

"'Xenodochial'?" Donna mouthed.

"Means friendly," he whispered. "'s from Greek. More humans should know it, really, it's a very good language—more so the ancient one (what's ancient to you, anyway)."

"And 'xantusidy'?" she wondered.

"Xan-tu-si-day," he sounded out. "Night lizards."

The xantusiidae continued their chirping, and Donna noted that he enjoyed their company more than he did that of some humans.


	86. Year Yaw

"So," Donna swung back and forth on her heels—wow, she needed to stop that, she was just like the Doctor, now—and looked the Doctor straight in the eye. "Christmas Eve, 2009. Absolutely sure, are you?"

"Of course I am," he laughed. "When have you known me to miss?"

A glower. A very glowery glower, and the Doctor gulped.

"Christmas Eve, 2009, Doctor," Donna enunciated. "Not 2008, not 2010, not January or November. My mum's expecting me, and Granddad's waiting for us both."

"He is?" the Doctor was flattered, and Donna couldn't mistake his blush for TARDIS lighting. "I think we're here."

"Got the presents?" Donna asked, and, without waiting for an answer, went outside.

The Doctor picked up the bag—too many presents, in his opinion, too heavy—and followed her. Only to fall onto his backside, knocked over by Donna's still form.

"Donna?"

"Two. Thousand. And. Nine. Doctor."

She marched back through the TARDIS doors, leaving a flabbergasted Doctor lying on the threshold of a time machine and—he stuck his tongue out to taste the atmosphere, which told him just as much as the man in the top hat that was walking on the opposite street—1909.

"At least it's Chiswick!"


	87. Zillion Zodiacs

Donna smiled at the Doctor, lying by her side. Her fingers brushed his and he took her hand in a familiar grasp.

 _Look at them_ , he seemed to say when he turned back to the sky. _There's so many of them. So many, shining and living. We'll never get to see all of them—even me—but they're there, and they'll be there for a long time. Long after we're gone—after I'm gone, too—and they'll still be here._

 _They're beautiful_ , Donna thought in turn. _Here we are, on a blanket on one insignificant little planet, and they're here with us._

She swallowed against a lump in her throat and the stars shone down brighter as the night became deeper.


	88. Anywhere

Donna leaned on the console and grinned. "So, Spaceman… where to next?"

"Aldebaran, Barcelona, Calypso Galaxies, Dead Tree Woods, Epsilon VII, Faraway Hotel, Galaxy Galaxy, Heartland, Io, Jupiter, Kangaroo Casino"—he paused for breath—"Las Vegas circa 1920s, Madrid circa 1570s, New New Guinea, Orion's Belt, panda sanctuaries, Queens (in New New York), Rome during Caesar's reign, space, Transylvania, Umbidge's Umbrella Restaurant and Pub, Vulcan, Wonderland, Xerxes of Persia's Royal Palace, Yugoslavia in the dinosaur era, Zootopia!"

Donna stared. Then, her eyes lit up. "Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

The TARDIS hummed, Finn yowled and launched himself at Donna for protection, and the Doctor pressed a button.

_Anywhere_ it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end.   
> Thank you so much for reading! :D


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